


Between Evening and Dawn

by DisneyPrincessTauriel (orphan_account)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Bechdel Test Pass, Fikiliel, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Minor Character Death, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Stockholm Syndrome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DisneyPrincessTauriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, Tauriel finds herself able to survive the invading forces of Orcs during an attack on Mirkwood. Impressed by her, Azog takes Tauriel as his own to her horror. Taken from Mirkwood and with no hope of escape, she finds herself pulled into the lives of the Orcs with no way to stop it.</p><p>However, when she is freed by the most unexpected of people, Tauriel discovers once again that there is a world beyond even that of the Orcs. With a new life starting, she finally has a chance to free herself from Azog once and for all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tauriel remembered the blood. She remembered the way that it caked in her hair and covered her clothes. Bits of it had dried onto her skin, and there was no water around to be found.

The dirty ground was wet, bugs crushed beneath her, and mud covering whatever else of her hair wasn't dirty.

Pain shot through her arms, and for a moment the idea of grabbing one of her knives or shooting another arrow repulsed her. She couldn't even stand any longer, the gash in her legs forcing her down. Blood poured out of it, turning her leg red and pink.

She should have listened to her mother.

"Tauriel, your father and I trust that you can fight. We helped to train you after all."

Tauriel closed her eyes. The dark, tree branch filled sky vanished, and was quickly replaced by her mother's warm green eyes.

"Tauriel, orcs are nothing like spiders." She sighed. "Promise me that you won't be so reckless."

Slowly, her image faded away.

____

Azog looked to the sky, his dark eyes wide. He took two long sniffs, and then turned back to the others. "I smell Oakenshield and his kin."

Tauriel bit her lip. She had known Azog was heading to Dol Goldur while still having his eyes set on capturing the dwarves, but she had hoped it would be a side issue. The stray dwarves - miners and traders near Bree whom had all worn different style clothing - had just seemed like a sport to Azog and the others, nothing more. It was just supposed to get the wargs something else to chew on.

"How far away are they?" asked another Orc. "I need to test how sharp my axe is; will it go through a dwarf's head or only half way?"

A few of the other orcs started laughing and raising their weapons high.

Tauriel's stomach twisted.

Azog only raised his arm and pointed it forward. "We can stop to rest later. As of now, our only thoughts are on the dwarves. If we do not go after them now then we risk losing them." His glare deepened. "I am not losing Oakenshield again."

Tauriel looked over to Diolir. She was still chewing on the bone of a captured deer, seemingly too focused on the very last of her food to notice what was going on. Tauriel's wargs eyes met her own, and she dropped her bone.

"We must be going." Tauriel reached out and quickly scratched the back of her ear.

Diolir merely stood up, her back high. With shaking legs, Tauriel mounted her.

____

The Orcs had chased the dwarves to the edge of Rivendell before they themselves were chased away by elves. Azog had ordered the troops to reposition, his eyes never leaving her as he did so. She had found herself straight in the center, Orcs covering her on all sides.

Perhaps it was better that way; Azog didn't want the elves to see her, and she did not want to see them. Elves were strong, but they too could fall, bodies lying like lost dolls in the dirt. In between screams there were always mourning cries.

Diolir raced forward, her sharp fangs bared. Of the two, she was the one far more bothered by this arrangement; as one of the fastest wargs, she needed to be up front where she could run freely. Back here, she had to slow for other wargs.

I'm sorry, Tauriel thought. She grabbed an arrow from her quiver and prepared her bow. Though she doubted that she would have to actually fire it, it was still better to have one and try and be safe.

Her dark hood had long since dropped from the wind, and her red hair hung free.

Below her, the crushed grass began to turn red.

____

She had woken up to the sound of orcs chattering. Her body still ached, and it took her a moment to realize what was happening.

"Only one elf left," an Orc had said. It had taken her years to finally figure out what the Orcs had spoken on that cruel day.

"Why isn't the ugly beast dead?" another had replied. "All the others are gone."

"I thought that this one was dead, but she wasn't. Master Azog noticed it." The Orc paused for a moment. "This one, this elf, is different."

Though at the time she could not recognize the words, a shiver had run up Tauriel's spine.

In only a moment she was frozen once more. The two orcs had looked over to her, meeting her directly in the eye. They grinned, showing off small, yellow knives. She doubted they would pose for a portrait looking like that.

"Well, well, well, the beast awoke. The scum really did survive."

Sweat formed on the back of her neck. With what little strength that she still had left, she reached for weapons that were not there.

"Go," said one of the orcs to the other. "Master Azog will be pleased to hear of this." He looked back to her.

She struggled to sit up, the Orc all the while watching her. She had been stripped of her weapons, save the knives hidden in her boots. If the orc could just look away then she could grab both of them. They were small, yes, but better than nothing.

Her arms still shook, and part of her just wanted to collapse back into the dirt. Her leg had been (surprisingly) bandaged over, but it still ached as well.

A short time later, the Orcs returned with another. This Orc was paler than most of the others, with swords in each hand. He looked strange and sickly compared to the others, though his glare was harder than the other Orcs.

She didn't wait for the Orcs to look away. Tauriel forced off her boots, grabbing her knives, and propelled herself forward. Judging by the area around her, she was still in Mirkwood; she had run around barefoot in the forest before, and she would do it again.

Her knives went straight through the Orc's face, and she just as quickly pushed herself upwards again. For a moment, she rode through the air, her knives raised. Once her feet hit the ground, she raced forward.

____

Everyone was silent around the fire that night. There were no jokes or discussions of planned future victories. Most simply ate and slept, too exhausted from the day earlier.

From the corner of her eye, Tauriel watched Azog. He was especially grim that night, and barely seemed to be touching his food. Tauriel's eyes watered at the sight of his meat; she was nearly finished with her own.

After a while, he seemed to catch her gaze and handed her his meat. Her eyes met his own for a moment, and her eyes drifted down towards the scars that still covered his face. A lump formed in her throat, and she again wondered why they had not healed. Azog only had one worse injury, one that anyone could see without ever meeting his face.

"Will we keep heading after the dwarves tomorrow?" Tauriel asked.

"Aye," Azog responded. "You are angered, are you not? I know you wish to face the Necromancer yourself. Few willingly go to him."

She shook her head. "Your feud should end."

Despite everything that happened earlier, he gave her a small smile. "I cannot wait until it is finally over. It's propelled me forward, yet I want it over."

Tauriel continued to eat her meat, though slower this time. Diolir slept at her feet, warm fur brushing up against Tauriel's legs.

____

With the Orcs now surrounding her, their large hands wrapped around her body and holding her up like a flimsy rag doll, she wondered how she was even still alive. Her leg still ached, and dried blood still covered her.

The head of the Orcs grinned down at her, its scars looking already to have stopped bleeding from where she had attacked it.

It spoke, and in that moment Tauriel was glad to not yet understand its tongue.

____

They had to go over the goblin's mountain to get to the dwarves. By the time that they caught up, Azog was grinning from ear to ear. Tauriel was near the front, her hood covering her face and dark gloves covering her hands. Her bow was ready in case she needed to fire.

Diolir raced happily; surely her stomach was grumbling.

The dwarves, Tauriel noticed, looked weak and scattered. Most of them looked afraid, and none seemed to immediately resemble Oakenshield from what she could see.

As much as she loved her warg, the dwarves did not deserve to become Diolir's dinner.

The dwarves headed towards the trees, yelling frantically to each other. They were like ants escaping from a nest filling with water.

She raised her bow and fired. None of the other Orcs seemed to notice how her arrows sailed past the dwarves so conveniently, close and yet just not close enough.

Keep moving, she thought. Get into the trees.

With Dol Goldur so close, she doubted that the other dwarves would be chased so long as Azog could get Oakenshield. Even the wizard that was rumored to be traveling with them did not bother Azog as much as his enemy did.

The Orcs began to dismount, leaving the Wargs to either stay behind or fight if they wished. Diolir herself showed her fangs and kept close to Tauriel.

Each step was careful. She continued to fire, every arrow close but not close enough.

Fiery pine cones rained down from the air, and Tauriel jumped past them. The Wargs were shocked, but the Orcs kept forward. Standing close to Diolir, she watched Azog step forward.

Were it not for her bow then she feared she would have helped force the trees down.

Cries rang through the air. First they were screams and then cries of protest.

Tauriel's heart skipped a beat.

Thorin Oakenshield up close was so different from what she had expected. For all that Azog had spoken of him, she had been sure that he was closer to a deity than a dwarf. Still, he looked so average - muscular and bearded, but so were other dwarves. There was nothing strikingly different about him.

She looked Diolir in the eyes one last moment, and then raced forward. Tauriel didn't even know what she needed to do, but standing around would do nothing.

Azog and Thorin cried and their swords clashed. Azog's dreams were finally coming true.

Tauriel froze near them but did not fight. Her grip on her bow weakened.

What could she really do? She was in the middle of who knew where with only a few arrows left. Azog had proven before that his tracking abilities were great. Besides, the dwarves looked ready to fall at any moment.

It seemed Azog would soon have everything that he ever wanted.

Tauriel forced her eyes shut.

Dol Goldur is close, she thought. Remember that.

When she again opened her eyes, she found Azog knocking Thorin to the ground. His large body thumped to the ground, nothing but a bug under Azog's feet.

Tauriel's heart raced. Even if he got a wounded leg, she doubted that Azog would spare him. He may have been different from most dwarves, but that surely would not save him, not when he so desired Thorin Oakenshield's head so much.

Even from this distance angle, Tauriel could see him grinning. Her stomach churned.

From the corner of her eyes, she looked to Yazneg. He too looked slightly stressed, though Azog himself was delighted.

She gripped her bow tighter. All those years of listening to Azog cry (more often that not in anger), watching him face the loss of his arm, and listen to him swear vengeance was finally coming to an end.

Azog raised his sword with one hand.

Tauriel shut her eyes.

When she opened them a few seconds later, she saw Thorin up, Azog on the ground, and a creature with no shoes on holding a sword.

He's still alive, Tauriel thought. She stepped away, heading back towards Diolir. This was Azog's fight alone.

As she forced herself past the fire, her hood fell off. She did not bother to put it back on; the dwarves likely would not notice her after all. Their own sights were set on their king.

She searched for Diolir through the smoke. The wood of her bow dug into her skin.

Dol Goldur, she thought. Diolir. Dol Goldur. Diolir.

The words echoed through her mind and connected with loose images.

I need, she thought, her heart racing and mind as smoke filled as the land around her, I need to get out of here.

It took her a moment to realize that her feet were off the ground. She looked down, her bow clutched tightly in her hand. Her legs moved around in the air, reaching for ground that was not there. As the moments passed, more and more Eagles filled the sky, taking dwarves with them. All the while, the Eagle holding her around the shoulders clung to her tighter and cried out to the other eagles.

Below her, Diolir howled.

____

For the second time in her life, she awoke to others chattering above her while her body ached. Slowly, her eyes opened.

The sky was clear, showing only a few fluffy white clouds. Her arms ached more than her legs, and it took a lot of energy to force herself up.

Where am I? She thought. None of the voices had sounded like any of the Orcs that she knew.

Her legs shook, though she locked eyes with a number of dwarves, a wizard, and that creature from earlier.

"The elf is up," one said.

"Th-Thorin Oakenshield?" Tauriel asked. He was the one closest to her. He looked dirty and tired, so different from the courageous fighter from the night before. At his side was the creature, who looked like a man though much smaller and with hair covered feet. Thorin had his arm around him.

Her eyes darted around. It looked as though they were high above any surface.

"You are alive?" Tauriel rubbed the side of her head. "And the Orcs are gone?"

"Yes," replied the furry footed creature. His sword was at his side. "The Orcs fled."

The tears came in an instant. The Orcs were gone, nowhere in sight. Even as the eagles had pulled her away and she felt herself lose consciousness, she had been sure that somehow she would wake up with Diolir at her side and Azog's watchful eyes over her.

The tears did nothing to keep her wobbly legs from falling.

Surprisingly, it was Thorin Oakenshield who stopped her fall. She found her face in his shoulders.

"Please tell me Azog is dead." Her voice had risen, and the tears came down harder.

Before anyone could reply, two dwarves burst out laughing.

"Kili, do you see that?"

"Certainly!"

"I'm glad that my eyes aren't deceiving me then. Uncle Thorin is hugging an elf!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel's legs shake with each new step towards the future.

Azog had slept fitfully the night before. His dreams always involved the same dwarf; in each one, Thorin got closer and closer to him. It had started with chasing him, running through endless fields in search of a dwarf who was always one step ahead of him. Then, Thorin had been captured a few times or spies had been able to grab him, though Azog himself had never been in front of him. Just before he had woken up, his dreams had shifted slightly, to where he was so close to Thorin that he could see the very fear in his blue eyes; with his free hand, he easily could have wrapped it around Thorin's neck and squeezed.

He woke up before that could happen. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light. Sitting up, he looked around. Yazneg was leaned up against the side of a tree and snoring loudly. The other Orcs were still asleep, either all curled up together or dotted around the clearing, their weapons right by their bodies. A few were even cuddled up against their wargs.

The only other being who was awake seemed to be Diolir. Azog's own warg, Tianil, was asleep. The night before, she had stayed up late to clean her white fur.

Diolir looked over to him for a moment, and then her yellow eyes returned to the ground. Ever since they had stopped to make camp the night before, the warg had laid down and refused to move. Before then, she had howled constantly for her mistress; Azog honestly could not tell which he disliked more. On one hand, her constant howling had been annoying, but on the other hand she looked no better lying on the ground. Every once in a while, she whimpered and moved her tail in just the slightest way. Had Azog not seen it then he would have thought that the warg had turned into a statue.

Diolir had not touched any of her meat the night before.

As Azog slowly stretched out his muscles, he could not help but notice how cold his skin was. Most nights, whenever Tauriel did not curl up with Diolir, she would lean into his good side. He was far larger than her, but she had long since stopped noticing. Using his one arm, he pulled her closer.

He leaned down on his knees and ran his hand through Diolir's fur. The warg stiffened beneath him.

"Relax," he whispered, leaning down until his lips were only inches away from her pointed ears. "Tauriel will be back in no time. We just need to rescue her from Oakenshield and the rest of his scum."

Diolir growled, showing off sharp teeth.

"They'll pay." Azog grinned. "You will make them."

Slowly, Diolir stood.

Azog walked over to where his small supply bag. Carefully, he opened it and pulled out a torn piece of green cloth.

Diolir was scratching herself with one of her legs when Azog returned. She froze when she saw the cloth, and took a long sniff when he held it out to her.

"Follow the scent," Azog said. "There are great things ahead."

Diolir licked his arm.

____

As the group had climbed down the mountain, Tauriel had felt everyone's eyes on her. Even with shaking legs, she had done her best to walk by herself. No one needed to be touching her, especially not Thorin. That had been an accident.

Right now, all she really needed was to be alone.

It had hit her slowly just how much trouble she was in. The pieces of the puzzle had connected in her mind only after she even realized it needed to be solved.

Tauriel took a step onto solid, grassy ground. Her arms were wrapped around her chest, and she had positioned her hair to block off her vision of the others.

Behind her, a dwarf whispered in his own tongue. A shiver ran up her spine; she had no hope of ever translating it. Just as quickly, the dwarf responded. A whole flurry of whispers began, and Tauriel could already feel the ground on her face.

You shouldn't be here, a voice in her head told her. She hadn't heard that voice in a while, and it was louder than usual, as if to make up for its absence. You have to leave now.

She had heard it even before she met Azog; it had been easier to ignore back then. Even then, however, she had been unable to discover just who the voice was. It had been too deep to be her father's, and sounded too sober to be her Uncle Galion's. Her mother never could have sounded like that (even if she had been able to do a spot on impression of Thranduil), and neither her king nor his son could have sounded like that if they tried. The Orcs had no one similar.

If it was anyone, then it couldn't have been her.

She wrapped her arms around her chest tighter. The dwarves spoke on, chattering away in Khuzdul.

You don't belong here.

Tauriel forced her eyes shut.

You know this is not how things are supposed to be.

Bile rose in her throat, the thick taste of yesterday's meat filling her mouth.

You don't even know what you're doing here.

____

The dwarves continued to speak in their native tongue while they ate. The wizard, Gandalf, was silent as well, sitting right next to the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. The wizard was taller than his friend even when he sat; he was taller than even Tauriel.

She still had yet to meet him in the eyes.

Bilbo Baggins was much smaller. He ate slowly, taking long sips of the broth in his stew, and slowly tearing apart his piece of bread. Every movement was deliberate. Looking at him was almost as hard as doing the same for Gandalf - both quickly caught on that they were being watched.

Only two dwarves had volunteered to sit near here. One had dark hair and the other one hair much lighter; both had similar facial shapes. She couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but they reminded her of the joking dwarves from up on the carrock.

Tauriel did not take her time to eat. Once the bowl was in her hand, full of steaming hot stew, and the piece of bread in her hand, she had dug in. The bread had been mixed with the broth and vegetables, and stuffed in her face in minutes. The meat had been saved for last, each precious piece untouched until needed.

She took one piece between her fingers, juices wetting her fingertips. She popped it into her mouth and started chewing it. As soon as it was swallowed, she grabbed the next.

The meat was rough against her tongue, and would have been pretty dry were it not for the broth. It certainly wasn't venison, and it lacked the taste of beef or chicken. It wasn't even warg meat; that was tougher, and didn't take nearly as much cooking. Rarely did anyone ever eat it, and not unless needed, but Tauriel would have recognized the taste anywhere.

As questions ran circles inside her head, she continued to put in piece after piece of meat. Every juice that fell on her lips or fingers were licked away.

If she had to, perhaps she could learn to enjoy the taste.

____

The Orcs had retreated from Mirkwood; all the while, Tauriel had kept her eyes open for extra soldiers that were not coming. Her throat had tightened, and had she had any weapons left then she had no idea what she would actually do with them.

From the back of the dirty cart that she had been shoved in, she watched Mirkwood retreat into nothing. The enchantment that the forest held became nothing; if the Orcs were bothered by the forest, then they did not show it. Tauriel's own parents had struggled with it many days while out fighting, and her parents had trained to fight for years. There were some days where she had waited for them to return home, heart racing and skin pale; one wrong step or one hallucination and they could be gone forever.

Sometimes she wished for a spider to appear, the thought dancing in and out of her head. It would have been so fitting, especially since more and more had started to appear recently.

No spider ever came, however, though she did watch large, empty webs pass them by. The webs looked like the blood of ghosts.

Beside herself, no one was in the cart. It was a large, empty space, with only a few areas open for peering outside. Darkness filled most of it, and it smelled like piss and old wood.

With most of her energy drained and her leg aching, she lay against the edge, her back supported by old wood.

The next time that she looked outside, all that she saw were miles and miles of empty green fields. Not one single tree could be seen in the distance.

She walked to each side and looked out through every hole in the wood that she could find, no matter how big or small. The sea of grass appeared only thicker, and she saw a few Orcs with supply wagons.

Collapsing against the side of the cart once more, she closed her eyes and cried. 

____

"Go on," the blond dwarf said, "take it." He shook the bowl slightly, precious broth dripping over the side; Tauriel's heart skipped a beat.

Her throat was dry, and in only moments after finishing her food she was hungry again. The food before her seemed to sparkle.

He was only half finished.

The darker haired dwarf beside him looked at her curiously. Across from them, she could feel the eyes of the rest of the company.

Without thinking, she grabbed the bowl, careful to not spill anything. Using the spoon, she carefully took each piece of meat inside and put it in her own bowl. Once she had finished, and checked to make sure that she had not missed even the tiniest bit of meat, she handed it back to him.

She popped a large piece of meat into her mouth and began to chew. It was easier to ignore the flavor if she kept it away from her tongue. In the end, taste didn't matter; all she needed was the food inside her. Anything was better than a rumbling belly.

The blond dwarf was wide eyed, still staring at his own bowl.

"Well, Fili," the darker haired dwarf said. "I think that means that she's happy to meat you."

The blond dwarf, Fili, turned red, and the other laughed. He pulled his bowl back and continued to eat.

By the time everyone had finished eating, a dwarf wearing a large hat offered seconds to anyone interested. She raced over to the pot and grabbed the largest piece of meat from the very bottom with both of her hands. Stepping away from the pot, she bit inside, pulling off chunks of meat. She chewed and swallowed what she could, and then spit out the bones. The fat was juicy, and the meat was not as dry as earlier.

The bones littered the ground, and it was only when she finished and saw them untouched that she realized that Diolir was not going to chew on them.

Once she had licked every bit of juice from her fingers, she crushed the bones into the dirt.

____

The cart shook, giving her little chance to sleep. The times that she did, Tauriel dreamed of what had happened. Everything played out the same, and Tauriel woke up to find herself in a world somehow not covered in red.

Sometimes, the cart would stop, and some food would get thrown inside. Most of the time, it was a piece of meat, and other times a piece of hard, dry bread. She had to touch the bread carefully, or risk having it turn to nothing but dusty crumbs in her hands.

They never brought any water, and Tauriel's throat turned dryer and dryer. Her tongue hung limply in her mouth, and it took great effort to swallow.

Whatever she could not eat immediately, she saved. For hours sometimes she would hold a piece of bread or meat, taking small bites until finally she had managed to eat it all. As soon as she finished, the cart would stop, Orcs would chatter, and more food would be thrown inside. The process repeated itself.

Night and day were all the same to her. The cart was dark either way, and she had stopped bothering to look outside. It didn't matter what she saw, because it certainly would not be Mirkwood.

Sometimes the cart would stop for hours, and all she would hear was an occasional Warg crying out. Her heart would race, and she would only be able to sleep for a few hours at a time.

Those happened rarely, however, and she could not have been more thankful. Those were the times when the cart opened, and for a few brief minutes Orcs would enter inside. One would grab her legs and the other her arms. They scribbled down notes and spoke with each other, surveying nearly every inch of herself. Her clothes remained on, though they often would pull up the the sleeves of her shirt and pants to analyze the muscle around it.

New bandages were applied to her legs, and larger food rations came. After a while, they even started to bring water, letting her swallow entire buckets if she needed to. If they seemed bothered by the cart's smell, then the Orcs never showed it.

Once they left, shutting the door behind them, she would readjust her sleeves and lie on the ground, staring at the wall. Her heart throbbed in her chest, neck, and head. Every breath was a battle.

The worst, however, was when the Orcs surveyed her hair. Those were the days when Azog came with them, and wrapped his large, meaty hands in her hair. They commented among one another in their native tongue.

Tauriel froze. They had not looked at her too differently as other elves had, with wide eyes and testy fingers. Before, she had been able to fight the elves off.

Still, the Orcs did not look at her as some elves had. For all his faults, Azog had never looked at Tauriel's hair and his eyes widened and face paled (though Tauriel was not sure if that was even possible for an Orc of his complexion). No Orc had whispered in quick, scared Elvish, and weakly tried to hide their pointing finger.

No Orc looked at her as though she were Death's mortal incarnation.

She no longer wondered why her mother had wished that Tauriel had gained her mother's complexion and dark hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering the rarity of red haired elves, along with it's association with the doom of Mandos and the deaths of Nerdanel's kin, it obviously would not be considered a good thing among their people.
> 
> Also, I plan on the company (especially Fili and Kili) to serve as comic relief (in the traditional sense that they bring some humor into an otherwise extremely dark tale). However, there will definitely be angsty moments as well (I still promise though that there will be a happy ending).
> 
> Also, all the kudos and nice comments mean a lot to me. It makes me really happy that people are enjoying this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Tauriel settles into camp, she receives a new gift.

Sleeping was hard; pebbles dug into her back, and she had nothing close to a proper pillow. Mosquitoes and flies hung around, buzzing in her ears and landing on her skin. They sat only for a moment before being crushed; the small bruises and the pain from slapping herself built up. Sweat rolled down her back and neck, and her throat was again dry.

Still, she couldn't help but feel relief at still being awake; it wasn't as if an elf needed sleep. Nearly all the others in the company had fallen asleep already; their constant snores had done nothing to help her slumber.

With a sigh, she stood up and carefully stepped over everyone. The clearing was small, and everyone was close to one another. She abandoned the small blanket that Bilbo had loaned her. She would have to return it to him in the morning; the small thing did almost nothing for her.

The dwarf taking watch, an elderly one named Balin, watched her with hawk eyes. She looked back to him for a moment before stepping over another dwarf. Once she was at a nearby tree, she sat down and leaned against it. Her heart was racing, though she had barely moved.

Taking a few deep breaths, she looked up towards the sky. The stars still shone, just like they had the night before Tauriel had been taken. Even as a child, she had looked to them for comfort, often staring up at them intensely for hours.

"You know," her mother had once told her, scooping the small girl up into her arms. Tauriel had leaned her chin up against the taller woman's shoulder, bits of her soft, dark hair landing on Tauriel's chin. "They will still be here tomorrow."

"How do you know?" Tauriel had been young then, so young that she could still remember exactly when she had first seen stars. It had been long, long before anything had gone wrong. Giant spiders had been imaginary monsters, and dragons had not taken to the sky for years.

"I know because I used to be afraid that they would vanish as well. But do you want to know what I noticed about them?"

"What?" Tauriel's eyes had fluttered, and a yawn left her lips. Back then, she had been weaker than most elves, and one of the only children in Mirkwood. Elf children were rare, and it was even rarer for them to grow up beside another elf child around their own age. Most others were older, nearly adults.

"Then I kept seeing them every night. I do believe if they wanted to disappear, then they would have done so by now."

"But what if they do go away?" Tauriel's voice had shook.

Her mother held her tighter. "I promise that they won't go away."

"How do you know?"

"Because new ones will always appear."

Tauriel had taken the promise to heart, even if her mother had given no proof.

Yet as she looked to the sky that night, she knew for sure then that her mother must have been right.

The sky was bright; the stars hung next to a bright white coin, the full moon staring down at her. It was so large that it seemed as though she could have reached out and grabbed it, kept it for herself.

However, it was the stars that truly caught her eyes. They were sprinkled across the sky, glowing bright, like hundreds of thousands of eyes staring down at her. From what she could see, there seemed to be even more than when she had been a child. When she had been young, she had tried counting them!

Perhaps she should have looked out the cart on that fateful day; maybe Tauriel would have seen two new stars in the sky.

Her chest tightened, and she quickly looked away from the sky.

Her arms wrapped around herself, a hug that only she could return.

Bugs crawled along the ground. Unlike the flying pests from earlier, they were smart enough to avoid her. She watched an any walk towards her boot before promptly changing course; it was holding a crumb high. A few other ants followed after it.

She stared at the ground for the longest time, watching bugs scurry past and the ground slowly light up.

The sun rose, and the dwarves awoke one by one. There were a number of times when she felt their eyes on her, though she never looked up and met their eyes. It didn't take long for them to get the hint, and they looked away.

Her legs and arms were numb; she hadn't moved in hours. Her arms and legs were weak, though her eyes remained firmly open.

"Hungry?"

The sudden sound made her jump; her earlier weakness melted away, and she stood up tall, reaching for her bow.

Kiki stiffened. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Kili?"

His eyes widened. "Yes, Tauriel?"

She blinked a few times. Once her eyes opened again, she saw that it was still the dark haired dwarf standing before her. "I'm sorry." Her arms went to her sides, her hands empty. "You just scared me."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's not your fault." Her arms wrapped around her waist once more, and she hugged herself tighter. "I know that you didn't mean to."

"Well then, are you hungry?" Kiki cocked his thumb back towards the camp. "It was Fili's turn to help make breakfast porridge today. There's no meat, but I promise that the food isn't that bad."

Tauriel paused for a moment before nodding.

"Oh, don't look like that. My brother isn't that bad of a cook." He grinned. "Come with me; we need to get some now, before everyone else takes the good parts." He turned around, and she followed after him.

The porridge, as promised earlier, actually was not that bad. The moment the bowl was in her hands, all three dwarves' eyes were on her.

"Try it." Fili said.

Bombur merely raised an eyebrow.

As Tauriel raised the spoon to her lips, Kili stirred his own porridge around in his bowl.

"Well?" Fili asked the moment that she swallowed.

"It's good," Tauriel commented. She ate another spoonful.

"Good," Kili said. "That means that it's safe for me to eat!"

Fili rolled his eyes, and Kili snickered. The blond prepared a bowl for himself.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go sit down."

The three sat down near some trees. The smell of food drifted through the small camp, and Tauriel watched the other dwarves go up and serve themselves breakfast while she ate.

"Tauriel?"

"Huh?" She looked up from her bowl of porridge.

"Tauriel," Fili repeated. He placed his bowl of porridge down, only half finished.

"Yes?" Her eyes flickered back and forth from the food that she was eating to the two dwarves.

Fili took off his coat - underneath was a white linen shirt and hard, defined muscles. He held his coat out to her. "I hope that it's not too small."

With shaking hands, she placed her bowl of porridge down and pulled back her cloak. She took the coat from him and put it on; her arms fit through the sleeves, but they ended just a little past her elbows. It was a little high on her, ending a few inches above her waist.

"Thank you," Tauriel muttered. She wrapped her arms around her waist. "That was so..." She looked down to her lap. "So nice of you." She bit her lip. "Why is it so heavy?"

For a moment, both brothers were silent. Kili was smirking, and Fili was turning red.

Kili was the first to speak. "He wanted to do something knife for you."

Fili shook his head. "I, uh..." He scratched his arm. "Look in the pockets."

"All of them," Kili added. "There are a lot."

She reached into a pocket; her hand froze when she hit something cold. Slowly, she wrapped her hand around something and pulled it out.

The color drained from her face; sunlight gleamed off of the blade, and Tauriel's hand began to sweat onto the cold knife's handle.

"If you're worried," Fili said, "I have a lot more. I can let you borrow some of them."

"Yes!" Kili grinned. "He has a knife in his trousers, too; it might rise up and break through his pants!"

Fili turned red, and quickly covered his face with his hands.

Tauriel put the knife back in her pocket. Slowly, her hands entered every other pocket that she could find. Most were found through touch rather than sight. There were knives all over her.

Fili spoke again once his face had lost it's flush, and once Kili had stopped laughing. "I'm sorry it doesn't fit."

Tauriel blinked. Her limbs relaxed slightly, and she pulled her arms away from her chest. "Why?"

"Well, I was hoping that it would actually cover you."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Tauriel, you're always..." He stopped for a moment. "You're always..." Again, he could not find the words. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged himself. "You're always doing this; I thought that my coat might help to warm you up."

Tauriel looked back down at herself. The garment was certainly small on her, but she could understand the gesture. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to be." He shrugged. "I should have known that it would not have fit as well as I had hoped."

"That is not what I meant."

Fili's eyes widened, and he looked over to his brother. Kili simply shrugged.

"I'm not cold."

"Oh."

"Then why do you do-" Kili stopped mid sentence; his brother's glare was as sharp as the knives in her pockets.

For a long moment, there was complete and utter silence. Using her cloak to cover the front of her body, she dug around until she found the knife strapped to her side. It was not nearly as well made as the dwarfish blade, and the only one she had.

"Thank you." Tauriel finally said.

"You're welcome." Fili's eyes remained on the ground.

Tauriel bit her lip, but spoke on. "You know, I used to keep knives in my boots."

"Really?" Fili asked.

Kili's own eyes widened.

Tauriel nodded. The boots she currently wore were tight fitting, and had been specially commissioned by Azog for her; unlike her elvish boots, there was little chance of hiding anything in them. Still, plans were already running through her minds of ways to modify them.

"I do too."

"Really?"

Fili nodded. "Oh, yes."

"He would put knives in his hair if he could." Kili chuckled.

"Well you would put arrows in your trousers."

Kili nodded. "Hey, I could have anything down there!"

Fili pulled off his boots and dug around inside. The first knife he pulled from his left boot, and the second from his right. "You can never have enough." He held one of his socked feet up; a hole had formed through the top, and he wiggled a clearly visible big toe. "I need to make sure that this is protected."

Tauriel's laughter surprised even herself. Fili and Kili both grinned before joining along with her. Their laughter echoed along the camp, and she soon felt the eyes of the rest of the company on her back. However, her muscles only relaxed further; no one's eyes stayed on her for too long, instead turning to look at the two brothers.

____

Later, once breakfast had been finished, Tauriel's mood again dropped. The entire company's did as well, however, as if they had all together been robbed of something great.

"Gandalf," Thorin spoke, his voice clear and serious. His blue eyes were made of ice, and though the wizard was far taller than him, he met the wizard's eyes. "Which way should we head today?"

"We must keep east," Gandalf responded. "From there we should reach Mirkwood, and from there Lake Town and the lonely mountain."

Tauriel froze at the mention of her old home.

"I thought that we were going to walk around the forest."

"As of now, Thorin Oakenshield, we are set to walk through it. After all, it has a path inside." Gandalf clutched his staff tighter.

A few of the dwarves began to whisper frantically to one another, some in Khuzdul and some in Westron.

"I have heard that the place is cursed," Dori remarked.

"Who hasn't?" Nori responded.

"No one said that this quest would be easy," Dwalin said. "Still, Mirkwood? Even that I cannot stand the idea of."

Tauriel looked down to the ground; part of her wanted to pull her hood up and cover her face, and part of her wanted to disappear. One was suspicious and the other one was impossible.

"Are you scared?" Fili asked.

Tauriel shook her head. "I have faced worse." Her arms wrapped around her waist. "No matter which direction we go, we just need to keep moving. I just hope that we start moving soon."

Fili nodded. His eyes passed over her for a few seconds longer, a curious gleam in his eyes. However, he and his brother said nothing else on the matter.

"Damnable elves," another muttered in Westron.

Tauriel simply raised her hood.

Fili and Kili both looked wide eyed at each other, their mouths hung open. Still, they never said anything.

It is hard, after all, to apologize for a sin one has not committed.

____

Though they had barely spoken to one another, it was Bilbo whom Tauriel could relate to the most. He too stiffened the most when they mentioned elves; from the book she had seen him reading earlier, it was clearly old and elvish - the kind filled with songs and poems that were probably older than even Thranduil. Bilbo usually did not keep the book out long, only reading about one or two songs or poems before putting the book away again where none could see it.

Once, he had seen her watching him read; his face paled, but she simply smiled back.

It was not a secret that begged to be taken from her lips.

____

The day's walk had been long, and all of Tauriel's body ached, yet she still could not sleep. Part of her did not want to; the stars were especially bright that night.

And part of her just wanted to admire her knives.

She tore off her coat and set it up on her lap, the sleeves dipping down her sides. She searched everywhere, until she was sure that she had discovered every single knife.

She grinned as she held up each one; it was true - the makings of dwarves truly were the best. The edges of the knives reflected off the dim firelight and the light of the moon above.

It was only in the arena where Tauriel had been given unlimited knives. Outside of the bloody sporting arena, the Orcs had stripped her of all but one knife; if she were out hunting with Azog then she would have a rather good one, but only one. Even her arrows had been specifically numbered, and Azog had made sure to always count before they left.

If the Orcs saw her now...

She held each one in her hands, letting herself grow accustomed to them. Some were incredibly sharp, while others were longer. Each one was different, but it never took her long to think of a good use for them.

Her face reflected back on her from the edge; she had not looked at herself in a long time. Some older facial scars had healed, returning to smooth, soft skin. Her hair was longer and messier; if she ever got the chance, she would absolutely need to wash it.

Still, if she looked at her reflection she knew that it was her looking back. From the tips of her pointed ears to the sharp curve of her nose, Tauriel knew exactly who she was.

Fili had not been lying; there were knives everywhere. She counted a total of thirty four in his coat alone. Considering his brother's words, he still likely had far more hidden away.

That night, Fili had watch duty after Nori. Putting her new coat back on, she walked over to the tree that he had recently sat down by.

"Thank you."

"Oh," he replied, "it was nothing. I am just glad that it helps."

They sat together for a while, Tauriel's eyes on the star dotted sky above and Fili's eyes on the camp. Eventually though, Fili's yawns got the better of him and he fell asleep again.

Tauriel put up her hood and prepared her bow; waking someone else up would be pointless.

Though her muscles were tense, and she took note of every noise in camp, on that night everyone was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to write more of an oblivious Tauriel; I hope it doesn't seem like she knows that Fili and Kili like her. At the same time, I hope it doesn't come off too strongly. Fili and Kili are also just trying to be nice.
> 
> Beorn is coming soon! I really liked him in DoS and couldn't resist adding him in here. I won't spoil anything, but he and Tauriel go back.
> 
> I hope that everyone still likes this story; comments are always appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel reflects on her past, back to when she first was allowed to hold a knife again.

The first time that Tauriel felt a knife in her hand again, after weeks of traveling alone in the cart, was also when the Orcs had lowered her food ration. The meat had become smaller and smaller, and eventually all they had started to give her were small pieces of dry bread.

"Are you hungry?" Azog asked. He stood at the entrance of the cart, Tauriel sitting at the far end.

She wrapped her arms around her waist tighter. She shook her head, meeting his eyes.

Her stomach, however, was empty, a weight that she could feel in her chest. If she ever dreamed, she saw her family, friends, and feasts. Beneath the stars, all Mirkwood elves would eat and drink together. She saw meats of all kind, freshly grown vegetables, and sweet red wine all sitting before her. They were as real as any dream could make them - until she woke up back in the cart empty handed.

He threw the knife to her; it landed only a few inches away from her and clattered against the floor.

For a moment, she only stared at it wide eyed. That had been one of her knives. Instinctively, one hand shot to cover the front of one of her boots, while the other reached forward and wrapped around the knife's hilt.

"You can come out and eat." Though there was a distance between them, she could easily see his facial scars.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and walked forward. Her stomach ached, and she knew that she would not be able to refuse.

Not unless she wanted to starve.

She held the knife tightly, her free hand against the wall. Her legs shook as she walked, unused to moving like this.

Azog helped her out, his eyes on her hand.

"There is more than enough to go around tonight." He smiled, showing off sharp, yellow teeth. "Feel free to eat your fill."

Tauriel did not meet his eyes. Her stomach rumbled, and the smell of cooking meat made her mouth water.

Azog sat next to her, his eyes on her lap.

Tauriel merely clutched her knife tighter.

There was no point in fighting, not now. Not when the eyes of every Orc in camp were on her.

Once she and Azog were served their night's meal - a very large piece of meat with two slices of thick, dry bread, she immediately began to eat. She dropped her knife in her lap and covered the hole between her crossed legs with her plate.

The meat was hot and juicy, and cooked well enough that it was not too hard or burnt. Blood dripped down her chin and onto her fingers, but she licked it up.

The meat was salty to her tongue, making her wonder for a moment just how it had been cooked. What animal was it as well? The thoughts, however, were fleeting. Why worry about them when she could eat?

Her meat was soon gone, leaving only bones. She had picked every bit of meat and fat off of the bones as she could, until they were so white and naked that one would have thought a vulture had picked it clean.

She moved onto her bread. It was a little better than what they normally gave her. It was easier to swallow, and she found herself biting off more and more the longer that she ate, even if her mouth was already full. One slice of bread was finished, and soon replaced by another.

The whole in her belly just could not be filled. By the time her plate had been licked clean, an emptiness still filled her insides.

Sometime while she had eaten, someone had placed down a cup of water for her. She picked it up, brought the cold metal to her lips, and finished it all in a mere two gulps. Though not the coldest of water, it was sweet and soothing to her otherwise dry throat.

It took longer for Azog to finish. She cradled the plate with one hand, while the other was between her legs, wrapped around her knife.

She almost wanted to risk it and attempt killing him.

Almost.

His eyes never left her, though hers left his. Once her food was gone, her heart raced.

Finally, he himself finished his food and gave his bones to his warg. He dropped his plate to the ground, the object releasing a sudden clank that made Tauriel wince and hold her knife tighter. Azog chuckled, his shadow covering her sitting form completely.

"Did you enjoy your dinner?"

Tauriel clutched her knife even tighter.

"I asked," Azog continued, "if you enjoyed your dinner."

Tauriel bit her lip for a moment. She turned her head up to face his and finally spoke. "Yes, I did."

He smirked. "My guess was correct then. You ate as a starving warg would."

A few other Orcs chuckled, but stopped at Azog's heated glare.

"Now then," Azog went on, his eyes returning to meet Tauriel's. "How do you plan to pay for it?"

For a moment, the pain in her belly subsided. All she could hear was her racing heart.

"Pay for it?"

"Dear, surely you should know that nothing in life truly comes free." He leaned down, getting on one knee. Still, he was taller than her. "Now, tell me, how shall you pay?"

"With an ear!" one Orc had yelled.

"No, a finger!" went another.

At the time, it had been only Orc speech to her, a bunch of confusing words in another language.

Still, all the heat had left her body.

Azog, however, had a different idea. He barked out in order quickly in Orc tongue, and various Orcs headed forward, all of their eyes set in one on the middle. It was covered in diets and scars, and openly glared at everyone.

"What you see before you," Azog said, "is a pest. An overgrown fly, in fact. He needs to be eradicated." Azog motioned towards her. "That is where you come in. You are to get rid of him for me. It would be meat for meat, you could say."

Tauriel's stomach twisted. Had she eaten-?

"I gave you meat, and you give meat to the wargs."

Tauriel relaxed, if only slightly. It had to have been something that the Orcs caught on a hunt that she ate earlier. After all, they likely would have just tasted plain awful.

"Go on," Azog said. "The wargs are hungry; being meat for our dogs is the only good thing this traitor will ever do."

She nodded.

"Then he will pay for his crimes and you will pay for your food."

The Orcs circled around them, trapping both inside a wall of Orcs. Most looked excited.

The Orc she had to fight had no weapons, though he raised meaty fists.

There was no official starting point. The circle simply formed, the hold on his arms were released and he was pushed forward, and then they were before each other. Without warning, Tauriel jumped forward and struck just above his eye. He missed punching her, and had only one hand. The other was at his forehead. He groaned out, the sound echoing through the small area.

The Orcs yelled for Tauriel to continue, Azog being one of the loudest. They had only seen one small stream of blood.

This time, the Orc attempted to strike first. His aim was off, as one hand covered his eye, and she easily could dodge any of his strikes. With her legs finally moving again, rushes of adrenaline fueled her, making her go faster and faster.

The next strike was in his arm. She dug in deep, and then just as quickly pulled her knife out. Blood squirted all over him, and her own knife was wet and red.

He removed his hand from his eye, and began to strike with his clear arm. That was her next target, as she again sunk her knife in deeply to him.

His cries made her head ache, and part of her desperately wanted to stop fighting and cover her ears, but she knew that was impossible. She needed to get this done with.

Using all her strength, she pushed him back, her knife still in his arm. She placed a booted foot on his chest and leaned down and pulled her knife out.

One of his hands still worked, and he grabbed for her hair.

Tauriel heard Azog cry out in anger.

She stabbed her knife in the Orc's hand, and he released her. Stepping fully on top of him, she reached down and stuck her knife as far as she could into the Orc's neck. For good measures, she pulled it out and stabbed him in his head as well. It was better safe than sorry.

She stood over him, watching him suffer.

Then, it was over and everyone was clapping and cheering.

Azog gave her extra food and water that night, and had her checked by healers outside of the cart. No wounds were found, and no damage had been done to her scalp.

He was the one to lead her back to the cart, a grin on his face. By then, he had taken Tauriel's knife away, and her hand felt empty.

When she went inside, he followed after her. The cart creaked beneath his weight, yet wielded to him.

Sitting down at the farthest corner, Azog pulled Tauriel in his lap and placed his face in her hair.

In that moment, Tauriel almost wished that the fight had not been so easy and that the wargs had not gotten meat so quickly. She would have much rather been out there fighting than trapped in the arms of the Orc. There was nothing more terrifying than being held by a monster.

"You never did tell me your name."

Tauriel froze.

"What is it, elf?"

For a moment, she considered lying. Then again, what point was there in it? What could they use against her?

"Tauriel."

"What a pretty name." Azog chuckled. "Considering where we found you, little warrior, you truly are the forest's daughter."

Goosebumps ran up her arms and legs. "How do you know its meaning?"

Azog chuckled. "Orcs can be educated as well, dear Tauriel."

She shivered.

For the longest time, his eyes roamed over her body. Sometimes, his hands would follow along after them. He stared at her intensely, to the point where she almost thought that he was jealous.

But of what? Surely no one would truly want to be her.

When he finally left, Tauriel curled up into a ball, trying to get every part of herself together. Then, it was only her skin and clothes against herself, no Orcs or any other strangers.

She never noticed when the tears started, and she was surprised that they were able to be stopped.

____

In the (seventy? Eighty? Ninety? One hundred?) years that she had been gone, the world had changed. Tauriel still stepped on the earth lightly, her bow raised and ears alert for any noise. The problem was that now there were a lot more noises to attend to.

The world was darker now, and more and more things shot out of the ground. Even in daylight, trees blocked out the sun; though she had eaten breakfast shortly before, it felt as if dusk were already falling.

They were not even in Mirkwood yet; the name sent chills up her spine. If others were still calling it that, then surely the forest did not reflect its first name or former glory.

"Well," Gandalf stated, "we should be headed in the right direction."

"Just great," Dwalin muttered, "we are one step closer to Mirkwood."

Tauriel stiffened.

"Actually, Master Dwalin," Gandalf responded, "we are not headed straight for Mirkwood."

"And why," Thorin said, "is that?"

"We are stopping to take a rest at the home of an ally of mine."

"Who would live out near here?" Dwalin asked.

"Someone with different tastes than you, Master Dwarf."

The group headed on. Tauriel had no idea who this ally was, but stopping to rest at a house sounded nice. For one thing, it would make the day end much earlier than if they walked on forever until finally someone suggested to set down camp.

"Where do you think we are going?" Kili asked.

"I have no idea," Tauriel responded.

"Fili?"

"I do not know either, but I hope that it has good food and somewhere warm to sleep." He stepped forward. "Really, that is all I need."

As the group headed onwards, Tauriel began to relax. The mysterious house was getting closer, and the pain in her feet was getting easier to ignore.

Along the way, Fili and Kili told a few jokes. Most flew over her head (and she did not hide that fact, giving them confused looks), but a few made her laugh. Her mind filled with images of warm soup and fluffy, freshly baked bread, and delicious, well cooked meat of all kinds - chicken, beef, and lamb. All sounded delicious, and her mouth watered at the very thought.

Her thoughts were what gave her one second longer to prepare. The howls broke her train of thought, and for a moment she stood still as a statue.

The howls only increased, and she could hear the sound of hooves trampling. They were lighter than that of horse hooves, but still easy to hear, especially as they got closer.

"Orcs!" Gandalf yelled. "Follow after me, quickly! The house is close!"

Tauriel raced forward, putting her hood up. Her heart raced, and her bow was in her hands. She could feel the weight of the knives as she ran, every single one of them.

Just keep running, Tauriel thought. Keep running and no one will fight, and we will be safe in the wizard's ally's house.

Her heart raced.

But who was this ally? How did Gandalf know that they were protected? Tauriel had seen Orcs break into hundreds of thousands of homes before, not caring who they hurt or what damage they caused.

Fili and Kili and a few other dwarves were behind her. Constantly, she looked over shoulder, only relaxing in just the slightest way when she saw that they were all fine. The Orcs were visible, but specs. None were close enough to start a fight, and hopefully none had recognized her.

Once she was done checking up on them, she picked up her pace.

Once the house came into view, Tauriel's heart only raced faster. What protection could that place actually give? She sensed no magical spell over it; Gandalf had not even said that the place was owned by a magic user.

Her heart, however stopped racing once she saw the bear. It ran forward, jaw clenched and eyes wide. It let out a piercing growl that made her heart skip a beat; the sound echoed through her ears.

She looked over her shoulder and watched the great beast run past. The Orcs turned and fled - every last one of them.

The other dwarves had noticed as well. Fili and Kili raced forward, until they were at her sides.

"Tell me that I was not the only one who saw that," Fili said. "Kili? Tauriel?"

"I saw it!" Kili was grinning from ear to ear. "Who knew that Orcs were afraid of bears? We could probably all kill one if we tried."

"I don't eat bear," Tauriel remarked, "nor do I want its skin - especially when a bear just saved ours."

Kili's eyes widened. "Did you just make a joke?" He grinned.

Tauriel rolled her eyes. "Come on, we need to get inside." The doors were wide open, a few other dwarves and Gandalf behind it.

Once inside, Tauriel went completely still for a moment. The Orcs had retreated, and a great bear was chasing them away. It was certainly large for a bear, and even more wild than most.

Could it be?

She shook her head. There was no time to think of it. The entire company was working together to close the large front door, and she put all her muscle into it. She needed to keep the Orcs out and away from her.

"Keep pushing," she said.

"Go on," Gandalf added.

Once the door was closed, Tauriel let out a sigh of relief and stepped away from the door. It had closed with a great thunk, and the heavy wooden lock was in place.

"Master Gandalf," Dori asked, looking around the house. "Where is this ally of yours? I only see farm animals."

It was true; the place was larger than it looked from the outside, and filled with a number of animals. Most had seemed to take no notice of the newly arrived guests. The house was mainly made of wood, and had a large collection of crates and barrels inside.

"Our ally, a skin changer named Beorn," Gandalf replied, "is currently outside chasing after the Orcs."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though Beorn may not yet be home, the company makes good use of his house.

Tauriel sat down in the furthest corner of the skin changer's home, landing in soft, sweet smelling straw. Few animals hung around this spot, and she was a good deal away from the door while being close to a window that she could easily climb through. Slowly, she removed her dark hood (and attached cape) and let it fall into the hay. Once it was off, the coat that Fili had loaned her was visible. She removed it as well, though she did grab a few of the knives inside and place them among her belt.

Underneath were dirty, grey Orc clothes that Azog had commissioned for her. They were just her size, but seemed wrong on her body the longer that she looked at them. Part of her wanted to rip off her shirt, trousers, and boots, but she knew that she could not. There was nothing else that she had to wear.

Still, it would be nice to wear something not made by Orcs again.

Without thinking, she pulled the coat back on. She relaxed the moment it reached her arms, despite its heavy weight.

She folded the hood and placed it under her arms before standing again. It was only then that she noticed the two dwarves approaching her.

"Is something the matter?" Fili asked. He placed his supplies down, and Kili followed after him. Both even put down their weapons.

Tauriel shook her head. "I just never expected to come here." She bit her lip for a moment, looking away from both of them. The words were on her tongue, and it would take only seconds to let them free. Surely Fili and Kili would find out anyway...

For a moment, she stiffened. Why had Thorin and his company been so silent about her past? Why hadn't there been an onslaught of questions upon her? Why hadn't they picked her apart until they knew Tauriel better than she did? Could they really have trusted her solely because she asked if Azog was dead?

She stepped forward, her voice a low whisper. "Can I tell you two something? Just you two?"

They both nodded.

"I used to know Beorn."

For a moment, neither said anything, only looked at each other.

"I knew him, back when the Orcs..." The word sounded wrong on her tongue, and she turned silent.

What have I been thinking? Tauriel thought. Her arms mechanically wrapped around her waist, and she looked to the ground.

If Beorn didn't defeat the Orcs or drive them away then she was a sitting duck. The Orcs could take down the door, break inside, and kill all the dwarves and capture Tauriel again. They had certainly faced harder situations before. It was a miracle that Beorn was even still alive, and another miracle in and of itself that she (possibly) could see him again.

That was if the Orcs didn't kill him first, like they had wanted to all those years before.

Her legs weakened below her. Oh, they really were in danger. Tauriel wasn't sure if she had the strength to run if she needed to. Besides, where would she go? Was there any place that she could actually hide?

She didn't even notice her legs caving in, or feel the impact of hitting the floor.

If only because she was grabbed before she could fall. Two sets of arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Tauriel, are you sick?" Kili asked, eyes wide. "Did something happen-"

"The Orcs are going to come." Images flashed in her mind of the Orcs on Warg back and holding their weapons, ready to strike and lusting for blood. "They're going to come and rip through everything, through everyone, and then I'll be captured again. And Azog will-"

"Tauriel!" This time it was Fili who spoke. He motioned for the three to sit down, backs against the wall. Hay spilled out onto Tauriel's lap.

Fili and Kili leaned forward, wrapping around her in a hug.

"Tauriel," Fili continued. He spoke with surety, capturing both her attention and his little brother's. "If the Orcs come, we will fight." He tightened his arms around her for a moment. "I promise."

Slowly, she removed her arms from her waist and wrapped one arm around each of theirs back. It was strange, hugging others and being hugged back instead of just hugging herself. No one had showed her this kind of attention since she was a child, since her parents were alive and she lived with her friend's and family in Mirkwood.

The tears came in an instant.

"Tauriel," Kili began, his voice shaking. "Do you need something?"

She shook her head. "I don't want you two to die; I don't want anyone in the company to die. You have been so kind to me. You don't deserve to be ripped through, not for being nice to me and helping me and not for being Durin."

Both stiffened.

Fili raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Azog doesn't just want your uncle dead, but you two as well.  
You are Thorin's nephew's, correct?"

Both nodded.

Even before they had interacted, she had heard them call Thorin their uncle. Still, they had been joking around at the time. Surely that had just been another joke.

Tauriel's chest tightened. "He wants your heads too." Quickly, she removed her arms from them and wrapped them around herself once more.

If Azog knew that they had touched he would make their last moments the most painful in their short lives.

And if Azog knew that Tauriel had willingly touched them, he would-

"Please," she whispered, looking back down to her lap. "Please grab your weapons and give me some time alone. I don't want to get you two hurt."

For a moment, her eyes looked over to both of their faces. Both made her clutch her own waist tighter.

"I'm sorry," Tauriel continued. "But you two are my friends, and I don't want either of you getting hurt because of it."

For a moment, both squeezed her tighter and then pulled away.

"We'll be back," Fili said as he reached down to pick up his swords. He reached a hand towards the front of his trousers and pulled out a large knife. "Until then, we have protection. See?"

She nodded.

"Don't worry about it, Tauriel." Kili grinned, though Tauriel had no idea how. "If the Orcs do come, we won't go down without a fight." He held his bow up higher. "I promise that I won't die."

Fili nodded, and held out his hand.

Warily, Tauriel took it.

His grip was firm as he shook hands with her, as the people of men did. "I promise too."

Once her hand was free, she leaned further against the wall, until her back ached. Fili and Kili moved on into another part of the home, leaving her alone. She grabbed her own bow and cradled it to her chest, her other hand clutching a sharp metal arrow.

____

It started out with criminals. Even Orcs had wrongdoers, those who stole or cheated or simply upset someone above them. Tauriel took quick looks at them, letting the faces blur but remembering the weak spots. She was the one who always struck first, and made sure every blow counted.

The Orcs fell so easily; the criminals were weak, mere shells of what those above them were. Fighting them made her wonder how they could be related to Azog or Yazneg. By the time it was over, her arms and weapons usually needed to be thoroughly washed, lest they be stained.

Once she had an Orc down, the others would cheer. Above the cage that both Tauriel and the criminal had been pushed in, ongoers would watch with wide, hungry eyes. Bets were made and meat was eaten - of what, Tauriel did not know.

Most days she only had one or two criminals to fight. Nothing too hard, and what usually made her just bearly break out a sweat. Other days, the arena would send in criminal after criminal. Her skin would turn red and her breathing rapid, and the floor would be wet as well, staining her boots. The longer that she fought, the more that the Orcs cheered. And then another criminal would be sent out, and she would have to get rid of it, often by pulling out arrows from the corpses of her past victims.

Most of those criminals looked at her with fear. A few tried to fight, but Tauriel was faster and was always given good meals after the fighting ended. The sick, skinny beasts before her were lambs before a wolf.

Eventually, the supply of criminals would run out for the day, and Tauriel would be led out. A number of the Orcs who came to her stuffed food and coins into her hands, while others begged for a souvenir. Wordlessly, she would send them away with one of her arrows.

The Orcs would lead her to Azog, and Azog would lead her to a hot bath and a feast.

Tauriel would spend hours in the bath if needed to wash herself off. Dried blood was pulled from her skin and floated in the water around her. Wash cloths ran over her skin, and she used up every cleaning item that she possibly could. Once she was out, she would dry herself off and check over her body one more time.

The food was grand - meats and bread and cheeses and well seasoned vegetables. When she finished one plate, she was given another. Cups would be refilled in moments. Desserts came afterwards, and no matter how much Tauriel had eaten before, she always found more room in her stomach. Sweet cakes and berry filled pies were easily swallowed, along with cookies and honey covered sweet bread. She could eat and eat and eat, and everything would be worth it.

____

"Tauriel?"

Tauriel looked up. "Oh," she replied, looking over the small ginger dwarf before her. Quickly, she searched her mind for a name. "Is something wrong, Ori?"

Ori pointed over towards the table. "Fili and Kili asked me to come get you. They say dinner is ready, and tonight's meal will actually be edible. Bilbo cooked tonight." Ori chuckled, and Tauriel returned it with a small smile.

"May I ask you something, Master Dwarf?"

Ori nodded. "Is something the matter?"

Tauriel shook her head and stood up, stretching out her limbs. How long had she been sitting, lost in thought? "Has Beorn returned yet?"

"No."

"Oh." She sniffed at the air. "What is for dinner?"

"Bread and beef stew, with honey cakes for dessert." Ori motioned her to follow him. "I heard that it will be wonderful."

Once at the dinner table, which was rather long for a man who seemed to live alone, Tauriel was served her plate by Bilbo Baggins himself. The hobbit's arms and the front of his shirt were covered in flour, and he was instructing everyone on where to sit.

"Oh, Tauriel," he said, noticing where she was. "I was actually going to sit there, with Thorin next to me. You would not mind moving, would you?"

She merely stood up, grabbed her bow from where it sat on the table, and moved. The plate before her had been untouched.

"I apologize," she said.

"Oh, nothing is your fault. Please feel free to sit beside Ori."

Tauriel sat down once more, placing her bow down by the scribe's brand new war hammer. Her eyes hovered over it for a moment.

"A gift from Master Dwalin," Ori commented.

Tauriel nodded. "It certainly looks sturdy."

He nodded.

Tauriel was again served a plate. She picked up her spoon and prepared to try the stew, when Bilbo came back. This time, however, he was herding two dwarves to the empty seats on her right.

"Trying to eat all my dessert early," Bilbo said. His arms were crossed over his chest. "Wait until your uncle hears about this."

"We weren't going to eat them all," Kili replied.

"You still have crumbs on your beards!"

Both rolled their eyes before sitting down. Kili placed his bow down next to hers; it was so much smaller in comparison.

Kili looked over to her and grinned. His hands were underneath the table, and he reached over and put something in her lap.

After taking a spoonful of her stew, she put her hands in her lap and discovered two warm desserts.

"One's for Ori," Kili whispered.

She reached over and dropped it in the scribe's lap. When he raised an eyebrow, she moved her head back so he could see Kili.

One by one, she tore the cake apart and put the pieces in her mouth when no one else was looking. That wasn't hard considering everyone else was happily caught up in their own meals.

The stew and bread was also good. She was one of the first to finish, and one of the first in line for seconds.

By the time she had finished her main course, honey cakes were being passed out and Tauriel's stomach was rumbling again. She swallowed two more, and then wiped sticky honey off of her face with a cloth napkin. Then, it was all drowned out with a large mug of milk.

Once that was over and the plates, bowls, and eating utensils were (literally) thrown to the sink, Tauriel went back to her corner.

"Did you have to do that again?" Bilbo called from the kitchen, though Tauriel had no idea whom or what he was referring to.

Her corner was quiet and dark. Part of her was ready to curl up and go to sleep, but another part of her kept her awake. Absently, she counted out her arrows, using moonlight as her only light source.

She stopped when something fell on her, covering both her and her arrows.

"Sorry!"

Tauriel pulled the blanket off of her to reveal a red faced Kili.

"I should have just handed it to you, shouldn't I?"

Tauriel nodded.

Fili was near him, setting up his own place to sleep.

"I apologize again for earlier," Tauriel said, strapping her quiver back to her back. "I truly am sorry."

"You already told us," Fili said. "We forgive you."

"You were just nervous." Kili sat down and wrapped his own blanket around himself. "Sorry again about the blanket."

"It's fine." Tauriel wrapped it around herself.

Fili and Kili were close, though the corner was still hers. The two slept side by side, as if fighting off chills together.

"Thank you," Tauriel said.

"We," Fili replied, sitting up, "just don't want you to get cold."

____

Diolir again lay still, her meat nearly untouched. Only hours before, she had been racing forward frantically, her nose to the ground.

"She's close," Azog said.

Diolir's tail moved slightly, though the rest of her remained still.

The warg was certainly smart, Azog realized. Smarter than most. Most would have judged the beast to be only a regular bear and would have tried to fight it had their Orc masters not made them retreat.

"He cannot patrol the area forever." He reached a hand out to pet her, but she pulled herself away. Once she was a few feet away from him, she laid down again and curled up into a ball. Eventually, the warg closed her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel meets Beorn once more.

Tauriel could only remember bits and pieces of her dream. She knew that there had been a forest, tall and dark and green. The trees' leaves were green, as was the grass and ivy. Flowers dotted the area, large ones with purple or blue petals; their stems and leaves were a deep, dark green. When Tauriel leaned down to pick one up, her own hand turned slightly green just by touching it, staining her skin. Still, she smiled and held the flowers to her nose, breathing in their fresh smell.

The forest was dark, but bits of light broke in through the shadows. Spots of light dotted the area, little pieces of the sun that the forest's leaves could not keep in the sky. Judging by what she could see through the branches, the time was around noon and the sun was high. A light breeze ran through her hair, sending it flying in all directions.

This forest was not Mirkwood, but it still felt like home. The few animals that passed her by had seemed unfazed by her, even with the large bow on her back.

Tauriel walked on, each footstep careful. Trees surrounded her in all directions, until she could not remember where her starting point was. No matter where she went, the trees did not thin in any direction.

Bugs passed her by, buzzing happily or crawling across the ground. It was hard to catch a glimpse of the tiny creatures, but Tauriel knew that they were there.

Time had moved like it always did in dreams - strangely. One moment, light was seeping down through the trees, and in the next moment the shadows were deepening.

Tauriel turned her head towards the tree tops and looked to the sky through the trees' branches. As always, the stars shone brightly, ever out of Tauriel's reach. Try as she might, she could not touch them, even if she wanted to.

Even dreams had their limits.

She stood still, ignoring the sound of bugs and the snapping of twigs. All that mattered were the ever resilient stars, shining on even as the world below them fell apart.

And then the dream had ended. Why Tauriel had woken up, she did not know. Still, she had been awake and sitting up for a good few minutes. Sleep evaded her, and her eyes remained open. Moment by moment, her eyes adjusted to the dark, revealing bugs far larger than the ones in her dream. They, like the dwarves, were all sleeping.

Tauriel wrapped her blanket around her tighter, and then surveyed the room. Other than the sound of snoring and a few animal noises, there was nothing to hear. Fili and Kili were both asleep, though Kili's blanket had nearly rolled completely off of him. It now only covered a small fraction of him. Tauriel quickly leaned forward and laid it back over him. Considering the accidental fuss he had made over a blanket, it seemed only fair that she worry about him being cold as well.

She leaned back against the wall and stared off at the night. The shadows danced before her, but she had long since learned how to entertain their press ensue without fear. Shapes formed from the lack of light, and Tauriel tried to assign names and images to them like she sometimes did for clouds.

The large, dark figure that entered the house, however, was not a shadow. That she knew with certainty, as the figure looked onto her.

"Beorn," she said, though she doubted that he had actually heard her.

From what little she could see of him, he actually looked much healthier. He had eaten more and his muscles showed, rather than retreating into his body like they had back when the Orcs had him.

Part of her wanted to race up to him and embrace him, but another part of herself kept her body firmly planted on the hay and wood. Beorn turned around and headed further into his home.

Tauriel's blanket remained still in her lap, never once disturbed.

____

Sunlight had spilled onto Fili's eyes, though most of the room was still dark. Beorn's home was a strange, large place. The furniture alone made Fili feel small, the animals even more so. The large bee in front of him was humongous. Until the bee flew away, Fili's eyes never left it.

Once it was gone, he felt safe enough to look over to his brother. Kili was still asleep, snoring softly. Reaching forward, Fili placed his blanket over his brother, careful to not wake him.

Kili did not stir. Rather, he slept on, his chest rising and falling steadily.

Only when he was sure that his brother was fine did he dare to look away from him. His eyes soon met with Tauriel's sleeping figure. Red hair spilled out across the hay, and the blanket Kili had given her the night before was still wrapped around her. Though her quiver was still on her back and she was cuddling her bow in her sleep like a child would a stuffed toy, she looked to be at peace.

Walking as softly as he could, he headed towards Tauriel's corner. Once he was there, he got on his knees and reached towards her blanket. It had gotten crumpled in the night, so he straightened it and made sure no part of her body, save her head, was left untouched by the blanket's warmth.

Her green eyes shot open and locked on him. For a moment, she looked ready to move.

"Fili?" She blinked a few times. "What are you doing, Fili?"

"I was only checking up on you and Kili."

"Is something wrong with him?"

Fili shook his head.

"The Orcs-"

"Are not here. Beorn is protecting us." He patted her shoulder softly, and then pulled the blanket up a little more.

"If we are not in any danger, then why do you look after us?"

"Because that's my job." He chuckled. "If anyone around here is supposed to worry, then they are me." Fili placed a hand down on top of her; though a blanket covered her, he could still feel her own warmth from under it.

Tauriel looked away from him. "Thank you."

"You may go back to sleep, Tauriel. This place is safe."

"Safe..." Her eyes looked hollow for a moment, and he felt her body stiffen from where he was touching her.

"Everything will be fine." He smiled. "Kili and I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"Really?"

"Really."

____

She had shut her eyes, though she did not feel the least bit tired. Warmth had filled her ever since Fili had spoken with her. Though he was gone, and she listened to him leave, Tauriel knew when she opened her eyes he would still be there. Kili would as well.

For a moment, she thought back to the few times that they had touched her. They always did it gently on her upper body, or gave her hugs. The brothers were so warm and welcoming, so different from-

Her eyes burst open. Beorn's home was exactly as she had last seen it. Kili still snored on, still wrapped up in two blankets, and the rest of the company that she could see did the same.

Do not think about him, she thought. Listen to Fili; he is right - this place is safe.

____

Beorn was a bear of a man even when he took the form of a man. He stood tall, towering over Fili by a few good feet. His eyes were steely, judging over everything.

He was also the only other person awake.

"Shall we prepare breakfast?" His voice was gruff, and his eyes returned to the sleeping company.

Fili nodded.

Beorn began to dig around in high kitchen cabinets that Fili could never dream of reaching. He had one bag of food after another; ether only thing more impressive than it was Bilbo's pantry. Fili, however, doubted that Beorn would allow his pantry to be emptied and his plates be thrown in front of him.

"I see that you came with Gandalf."

Fili nodded.

"I had heard of him, but never met him. I cannot say that he is quite what I expected of a wizard." He placed down a large bag of flour.

"I like him more than the rumors and stories describe him."

Beorn raised an eyebrow, but did not question him further on the subject of the wizard. "How many of there are you here? I need to know how much food to make." Again, Beorn returned to his cabinets and began to dig around.

"Sixteen," Fili said. "Thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, one wizard, and one elf."

Beorn's eyes widened. "An elf? I thought dwarves hated elves."

"Most do," Fili replied. "Still, a few I have met are quite agreeable, especially her."

"Her? Do you speak of your company's sixteenth member?"

"Yes, yes I do." Fili's eyes looked back, though it was impossible to see either her or Kili from where he stood. "Her name is Tauriel, and she is the finest elf that either my brother or I have ever met."

"Tauriel?" Beorn stepped back.

"She said-"

Beorn cut him off; judging by his face, Fili doubted that he had even listened to his two words. "Do you speak of the Orc slave girl, Tauriel? The one with hair of fire, and a burning fighting style to match?" Beorn's face paled, yet his eyes softened. "Is that the Tauriel that you speak of?"

Fili froze, three of Beorn's words ringing through his mind.

Orc slave girl.

What Beorn had described fit her perfectly.

Tauriel had never said much about her time with the Orcs. She had wept in joy on the carrock once her confusion had ended and she had regained her balance. Whenever the name of the creatures was brought up she would tense. Fili's coat never seemed to leave her now that she had it.

Still, though he knew it was true, it felt so strange to have the words spoken out loud directly like that. There were no puzzle pieces to put together, or words to say in whispers.

Then again, Fili doubted that a man in shackles would willingly censor himself.

"Yes," Fili responded. "That is Tauriel, our Tauriel."

____

The criminals had been easy kills. Tauriel knew her weapons well, and was used to the feel of an arrow or knife or sword. Even as a young child, she had been no alien to the workings of weapons (though she had not heeded her parents words on just how important they were).

The Orc criminals rarely had weapons, having to rely solely on their body for the fight. It was hard to call the fights fair, but Orcs were not the kind to have even playing fields. It was only in the arena that Tauriel had power.

When she entered, she had her weapons with her and was ready to fight. Her heart raced and a light coating of sweat fell down her neck, yet she remained strong. The Orc had to be stopped, and Tauriel could not do that if she let her worry consume her.

The only way to fight her fear that she would slip up and be killed by an Orc criminal was to beat them first. When she left the arena, her clothing was covered in blood and her earlier energy drained. Sweat poured off of her in buckets, until she was sure all of Moria could smell her. Sometimes her stomach would rumble, and she would be glad for her upcoming feast, and other times she would feel ready to vomit, even if she had not been fed in hours.

The fights were all the same; despite Tauriel's secret fears, none of the Orcs had the power to stand against her. Each Orc fell to the ground and lied in its own blood, before she left the arena and its body to rot.

Then they brought in the skin changers.

Tauriel had heard of them as a child, though she had never seen one before. Most were strong, but weakened by the Orcs. Bruises covered many, and they too grew used to hunger.

At first, Tauriel did not fight them. She merely watched from above, with Azog's arm wrapped firmly around her waist.

Sickening was the only word that Tauriel could use to describe it. Whether the skin changers took the form of men in chains or animals, their misery was apparent, and the Orcs were all the more excited for it.

By the side of Azog, she watched the skin changer's fight. A thin wolf attacked an elf, and was so hungry that that the wolf ate the creature. When they turned back into a man, they still had blood around their mouths. The cheers of the Orcs afterwards rang through her ears.

Then one day, she went into the arena to see not an Orc criminal, but a large, dark furred bear.

____

When she entered the kitchen, Tauriel felt eyes on her. She stiffened, only slightly comforted by the weight of her weapons.

Beorn, Fili, and a few of the other Company members stared at her.

"He did not lie."

Tauriel looked up. It really was him.

"How did you live?" Beorn was older, now with even more scars and even broader shoulders. Still, his life of freedom had softened his expression, and for the first time ever she saw him smile. Other than that, his man form was exactly as she last remembered it.

Tauriel did not reply, simply walked forward and put her hand against his. Her eyes widened, as if she had expected her hand to pass through a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to explore one of the Durin brother's points of view. This time I chose Fili, and soon there will be scenes from Kili's point of view as well.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only Tauriel had been asked a more simple question. Perhaps then she would actually know how to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I rewatched DOS and over analyzed the layout, design, and furniture in Beorn's house. That reflects in this chapter. It just left me with so many questions that PJ is never going to answer, so I answered them myself.

Beorn had certainly made himself a nice little home. Tauriel had wiped the hay from her clothes and enjoyed a hardy breakfast; it was certainly the best meal that she had eaten in a good long while. She had seconds, which Beorn was more than happy to give her.

The whole place was made of wood and stone. From the walls and floors to the homemade furniture, it had a lived in quality that could not be replicated. The entire house, or at least Tauriel supposed, was made by Beorn's own two hands. Back when he had escaped, she had merely imagined him running from the Orcs forever, or worse being caught. Still, she doubted the Orcs would look forever for him, and he didn't seem like the type who could run forever. Perhaps he had seen the land and simply taken a liking to it - taken little and made a lot.

Or, perhaps, the place had been sitting abandoned for a while. It was a lonely little place, and probably was the only house around for miles. Elves and men lived to the east and men, dwarves, elves, and hobbits lived to the west past the mountains. Here was Beorn's place.

Still, Tauriel couldn't shake away the feeling that Beorn wasn't alone, not really. A chess set sat on a small table, its wooden pieces moved as if someone had been playing. Perhaps it had been two members of the company, but that wouldn't explain why Beorn had it in the first place. A game like that took two players. She highly doubted he played with his sheep or horses.

The long wooden table too had many chairs for a man who lived all alone. When they had arrived, there had been enough to seat the entire company, including Gandalf and Tauriel herself, and still leave a spot at the end for Beorn.

The large food supply she could at least understand. If he did ever travel out east to buy food, it was likely that he got enough to last months, perhaps even years.

However, with the company around, she was sure that one of those trips east would have to come sooner rather than later. Tauriel had only eaten seconds - some of the company had managed to eat fourths. Knowing them, once lunch rolled around they would surely be hungry again.

"Tauriel?"

"Beorn?" She looked up to him.

"What troubles you?" His mouth was set in a frown, but his eyes were soft. "Are you thinking of the Orcs?" His eyes hardened at the word, and his frown turned into a scowl. "They are not here, and they will never come. If I have to fight them, then I will. I would do anything to keep this land safe."

Tauriel shook her head. "I wasn't thinking of them."

Beorn sighed. "Good, very good." He placed a warm, large hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "You have nothing to worry about."

Tauriel's eyes wondered to a nearby window, and she watched a few figures run by. They moved too quickly for Tauriel to identify which dwarves that they were, but she did hear them make a few quick, high pitched shouts. Others replied, and they began to laugh.

"Why did you not send me outside with the others?" Tauriel's eyes locked with his. "Why did you ask me after breakfast to stay here?"

And stay there she had. After putting up her plate, she sat back down at her chair and waited for Beorn. The rest of the company had slowly left outside to look at the ponies, bows, and the rest of the supplies that Beorn had offered them. They were going to stay a few more days, but Thorin had wished to look over his newly given wares and plan.

"Erebor is close," he had said earlier that morning. His mouth had been set in a firm, serious line. "The mountains in the distance draw ever closer. Durin's day too is drawing close, and we soon must set off. Still, we also cannot leave unprepared. The road to the mountain is still harsh."

She had seen the mountains herself on the carrock. They had seemed magical; the entire company had been fascinated, and Tauriel was not free from its spell.

"I wished to speak alone with you." He broke his hand away from her and used it to pull up a wooden chair. Its legs creaked as they moved across the cold stone floor. He sat down. "I have many questions, and I was sure asking them in front of the others would bother you."

Tauriel nodded. "I see."

He looked across her, searching her up and down. Tauriel had her cloak on, though the hood was down, and her bow in her hands. "Your clothes and bow are of Orcish make." His face hardened. "I have skins and furs. Take as many as you need, and wash yourself. The first time that I had the chance, I cleaned myself from top to bottom. It felt wondrous." His eyes softened for a moment, and though they were set on her, she doubted that he was seeing her. "I cannot describe the wonder of being free and clean." He looked back to her, his gaze hardening on her bow. "That vile thing is not even good for scrap wood. When you are cleaned and changed, you may go outside and train with the others. A new bow will be waiting."

Tauriel nodded. "Thank you."

"I could never repay you." He stood. "Come, you must get new clothes." He reached over and pulled the bow from her hand. Once it was gone, her arms relaxed; she had never realized what a weight it was. She also pulled the quiver from her back and handed it to him. "I made the bows outside myself. Wood is plentiful, and I assure you that I have good handiwork."

He led her to the small area upstairs. There were three small rooms, most with nothing but a small bed in it. Only one, a rather long one that had not been made, looked as though it had been slept in. At the end, there was a small storage area. Wooden boards creaked as the two walked; if one looked at it from the outside, they would never realize that there was a second story.

Beorn dug through boxes. Opening a chest, he revealed whole piles of cleaned furs, skin, and even some leathers. Opening another, there were boots of many sizes and styles - some looking rather simple, and others looking rather hard or having fur inside.

"Ever since I first arrived here, I have learned to make many things." He gestured towards the items. "Take anything that you might need."

Tauriel dug around, searching through the items. Some clothing was far too large for her, and others probably could only fit Bilbo.

"Who did you make these for?" Tauriel held an undershirt up. It was thick and well made, and looked as though it could fit her. "Very few things look to be your size."

"You."

"Huh?"

"I made them for you. Before you came, they were for no one; these were simply made to pass the time and practice making items. Now, however, anything that you like is yours."

"They are for no one else? But what about others?"

"Do you mean the company?"

Tauriel shook her head. "Your table had so many chairs. You have guests perhaps, an extended family?"

"No." His small smile faded, his normal frown returning. "I do not have guests. There is only me and my animals." He looked to the ground. "I can fill my home with items easily; all I need is more fur and wood. Guests? Good ones are hard to come by, and I trust few strangers."

"Oh. I apologize for asking."

"You have done no wrong, Tauriel."

She removed her cloak and handed it to him. Then, she removed the coat Fili had given her.

"Did the Orcs make that?"

Tauriel shook her head. "It was given to me by a friend in the company. I will need it later." She removed it and carefully folded it up. As she leaned down to place it on the ground, a knife fell out. It made a thud as it hit the ground.

Beorn's eyes widened.

Tauriel put the knife back into the coat and then placed it on the ground. "He gave me the coat for warmth, and the knives are for protection."

He nodded. "You have a good friend." He stepped away from her. "I shall go and prepare your bath. While I do that, I shall leave you in privacy. Again, feel free to take whatever you like." He pointed towards one of the two small rooms with unused beds. "Put whatever you like in one of those rooms. Tonight, you will sleep up here."

"I understand."

"And Tauriel?"

"Yes?"

Beorn's eyes tightened on her. "I have many questions to ask you later, but for now I only have one. When the company leaves, shall you stay here with me?"

Beorn had said that he lived alone; he never said that he was happy about it.

Before she could reply, he turned away from her. "I must be off. Think over your answer."

-

Kili stiffened as a bee buzzed past him. Even with his bow in his hands and new arrows in the quiver on his back, he felt helpless around the large bees. Already, Nori had been stung, and he had all but started weeping from pain.

Once it was gone, he looked back to his brother. "Still having trouble learning how to shoot?"

Fili rolled his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with me."

"You would think that having me as a brother and looking at Tauriel so long would teach you how to hold a bow correctly. Really, Fili." His brother's face soured, and Kili could only laugh.

Fili looked down to his hands and moved the bow, changing it to where he was holding it correctly. It looked strange in his hands.

"We should practice." Kili pulled an arrow from his quiver and handed it to Fili. Then, he grabbed another for himself. Beorn's arrows were lighter than dwarves made ones, but the metal ends were just as sharp. "How about a challenge? The most to hit that tree in the distance gets to do the other's night watches."

Fili groaned. "As if I would fall for that. Mother taught me not to accept challenges I couldn't win." He lowered his bow. "I get it, Kili; you're the family archer." He looked back to it and then frowned. He dropped it to the ground and reached for the swords on his back. "I will take the bow; it was quite courteous of Master Beorn to give them to us. Still, I have my swords and knives, and I intend to use them."

"Well don't you at least want to practice?"

"Maybe later. For now, I'll just practice with my swords."

Kili pouted. "If Tauriel offered to teach you then you would fill the tree with arrows."

"Well if there was a chance that Tauriel could teach you then you would pretend that you had never picked up a bow in your life." He chuckled.

Kili rolled his eyes.

"I speak the truth. Besides, I'm not going to lose any chances at getting some sleep just you can prove how much better you are than me at archery."

"I still think that you should try shooting a few arrows. I do believe that Master Beorn wouldn't have given them to us if he learned that only one dwarf could actually shoot."

"Fine." Fili sighed and picked up the bow. "Let's pray to Aule that I actually hit the tree."

"Remember when we were younger and you first tried shooting with me?" Kili laughed. Fili in his younger years had a straggly excuse for a beard, had been thin and lanky, had a high voice that often squeaked, and couldn't hold a bow to save his life.

"I tried to forget that for a reason."

"Oh, it couldn't have been that bad."

"When I was younger, I was absolutely mortified. I was afraid to show my face to the other children in the village." Fili prepared his bow. "And if I do remember correctly you didn't let me live it down."

"Fine, maybe it was that bad." Kili laughed.

Fili merely released his arrow.

Both brothers' eyes widened.

"You hit it."

"I did." Fili grinned from ear to ear.

"Time really has changed you." Kili smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Now do you feel like taking up my challenge?"

"Maybe, brother, just maybe." Fili pulled another arrow from the quiver on his back.

"Well maybe that was just beginner's luck. For all you know, every shot after this you could miss."

"Maybe so, Kili."

-

Beorn was right; it felt wonderful to be clean. This was nothing like the public Orc baths, nor the private bath Azog owned. It was a large metal tub filled with half warm water. Beorn had left her alone with various handmade soaps and washcloths. By the tub sat some of her new clothes, a towel, and a fur lined pair of boots.

Tauriel dunked her head below the water, letting it cover her completely. The day was rather warm, so the water was a relief.

Grabbing some soap and a washcloth, she began to scrub at her skin. For a while, all she could do was remove every bit of dirt that she saw. She scrubbed it from her body and from under her fingernails. There was dirt on her face and dirt on her legs and between her toes. Dirt was in her hair, from its ends to her scalp.

She scrubbed herself, even after the dirt was gone. If Tauriel was to be completely honest, she smelled absolutely awful. The only reason that no one else in the company had pointed it out was because they smelled just as had (if not even worse).

Tauriel scrubbed and scrubbed, until her skin and hair was completely dirt free and all she could smell on her was the heavy scent of Beorn's homemade soap.

It was easy to almost forget her troubles completely. 

Almost.

How was she supposed to answer Beorn's question?

She scrubbed harder, but Beorn's voice repeated the question in her mind. Her face reflected to her back in the water, and even closing her eyes could not help her escape the image of herself.

Beorn wanted an answer, and both yes and no seemed wrong.

When she got out, she dried herself off and changed, but could only partially dry her hair. It was dark with water, and her towel was already wet.

Oh well, Tauriel thought. The day is warm.

-

"Fili, you can shoot?"

Fili just about dropped the bow from his hands.

"Sorry for startling you."

The blond dwarf quickly regained his composure. "Sorry, I was just focused. And yes, I can shoot."

"He's just not as good as me." Kili grinned.

Fili rolled his eyes. "And you probably aren't as good as Tauriel."

"You're right, I'm probably not."

Well, that wasn't what he haas expected to come out of his brother's mouth.

Tauriel laughed. "I'm sure that you two are great."

Kili grinned and his eyes softened. He looked ready to kiss her feet if she asked.

"Tauriel," Fili said, squinting his eyes. He had to make sure that what he saw was correct. "Why is your hair wet?"

"I took a bath." She raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, of course not." He lowered his eyes.

"But aren't you going to braid it?" It was as if Kili had read his mind and decided to voice his thoughts.

"Braid it?"

"Dwarves always braid hair right after it's wet." He looked over to Fili and raised an eyebrow.

Kili shot him a quick grin. "That's when it's easiest."

"I mean, that is if you want us to since you are an elf. If you don't feel comfortable with it..."

"No, you two may." She pulled up an end and rolled it between her fingers. "It is fine with me. Besides, I don't want all of this flying in my eyes."

"Well, then let's go inside and get started." Kili surely wouldn't pass this offer up.

Well, Fili thought, Uncle Thorin has tried to braid Bilbo's hair before. If he can do that then surely we can do this. Besides, Tauriel trusts us.

Once inside, Tauriel sat down in a chair and the two brothers got to work.

For a moment, both brothers ran their fingers through her hair. It was so long and soft, softer than Fili had originally imagined. It smelled nice as well, and for a moment all Fili wanted was to hold his nose close to it and to run his fingers through it. Kili's eyes were locked on it, and Fili had to nudge him to keep him from falling spellbound by it. Tauriel wanted them to braid it, not look at it.

The two started to braid. It was easy to work together when there was so much hair. It was nearly to the backs of her knees.

"I've never seen an elf with red hair besides you, Tauriel." Kili said.

Tauriel stiffened.

Fili bit his lip, stilling for a moment. Her soft red hair was in his hands.

Kili seemed to have not noticed, and looked ready to make another comment.

His brother was right, though. The few elves that lived near the Blue Mountains had every natural shade except red, as did the Rivendell elves.

"It is quite beautiful." Fili forced a smile, and then motioned for his brother to shush. He almost considered asking why it was so long, but stopped himself. Already, one risky question had been asked. For all Fili knew, the Orcs rarely ever allowed hair to be cut. There was no point in reopening one of Tauriel's old wounds. "As are your new clothes. Where did you get them?"

"Beorn gave them to me." Tauriel's tone was light, and from what little he could see of her face, she was smiling again.

"You still have my coat, don't you?"

"I wouldn't give it up. I don't want to get cold."

"We wouldn't want you to get cold either." Fili smiled.

The two dwarves continued braiding. The one long braid was of dwarves style, and held together tightly. Kili had managed to fit a few of his beads in it, and Fili put one his spare metal clasps on it at the end. A few members of the company would raise an eyebrow at it, but Tauriel surely wouldn't mind them there if she trusted them to braid her hair.

Fili stepped away and admired it. It was beautiful and practical, and certainly an honor to get to do it.

"Do you like it?" Fili asked.

Tauriel nodded. "I can't see it, but it feels fine." She stood up and suddenly hugged the two. "Thank you both so much."

"You're welcome." Kili wrapped an arm around her, and Fili followed after.

A throat cleared, and Tauriel broke the hug.

"Tauriel," Beorn said, "I see that your bath is finished."

"Beorn," she replied. "It was just as wonderful as you had said. I feel so clean, so free of Orcs." Her shoulders tensed and her lips tightened. Her eyes darted from one brother to the other.

Fili quickly put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Come with me, Kili, we have an archery competition to get to. I think that luck is on my side and I'll win."

"As if," Kili responded. "Sorry, but I have to go, Tauriel. I need to prove a point to Fili."

"Says the future loser," Fili replied.

"Now you're just talking about yourself."

The two quickly gathered their things and left the home.

-

Even with what might as well have been a party around her, Tauriel could barely keep her smile glued on.

She stared down at her mug of milk.

"Feel like eating a little more, my little bird?" Beorn patted her on the shoulder. "I have more than enough sweet honey cakes for you."

"I suppose that another wouldn't hurt." They were sweet, warm, and sticky. Tauriel had already finished off one plate of them that night along with the rest of her dinner.

"Little bird?" Kili laughed.

"Yes," Beorn said, voice sharp.

The look on Kili's face almost made Tauriel laugh.

She supposed that "little bird" was better than "little bunny". Bilbo had hardly seemed pleased with the nickname, and Tauriel could see why. Rabbits were prey; at least birds hunted and could fly away from their enemies.

"Sorry, Master Beorn." 

Beorn stood up and went off to get more honey cakes.

Tauriel looked back to her milk.

"Tauriel," Kili said, "what's wrong?"

"Did something happen today?" Fili asked, raising an eyebrow.

She couldn't muster up the strength to look up at either of them. "I'm just tired. After this, I'm going to bed."

"What? But Tauriel, it isn't even that late!"

"I've had a long day, Kili." She sighed.

Beorn returned with a plate of warm honey cakes. For a moment, their eyes met. His earlier question rang through their mind.

"Thank you, Beorn." Tauriel quickly took the plate from his hands and lost her eyes to the pile of small yellow cakes. She grabbed one and ate half of it in one bite.

Beorn patted her on the shoulder and then walked away. Tauriel stuffed the last half and another in her mouth, swallowed a bit of milk, and then stood up.

"Good night," Kili said. He was frowning.

Fili nodded. "Go on and rest. You must need it."

Tauriel pushed the still full plate towards them. "Sleep well." She walked towards the stairs.

"Tauriel!" Kili called, having to raise his voice to get over the sounds of the rest of the room.

Tauriel quickly ran back over to the brothers, darting past a few other dwarves. "What?"

"Aren't you going to your corner? We had it all ready for you." Kili's eyes were wide, and his frown made her heart ache.

"Beorn gave me a room upstairs." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Kili."

"Oh." He stood up suddenly. "How about I go get you your blanket?"

Tauriel nodded.

His face brightened, and Tauriel was able to muster up a small smile in return.

Kili left towards the hay.

"Fili, the coat you gave me is upstairs."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

He beamed as well. "Then it's worth going without it."

Kili returned with the blanket. The moment Tauriel took the blanket from him, she quickly hurried upstairs and pulled off everything but her underclothes.

The blanket Kili had given her was warm, as was the bed and blankets that Beorn had provided. The noise downstairs was surprisingly hard to hear, and her small room was dark. She could just barely make out the shape of the coat Fili gave her folded on the floor.

Sleep was a dream in and of itself. Beorn's words echoed through her mind, and every time she closed her eyes she saw him. Even for such a large, hard muscled man, the heavy frown on his face could easily bring her to tears.

If she left, all of his chairs and beds would be empty except for one. No one would play chess with him. All he would have for companions would be animals. All that afternoon, he had listened to her recount what had happened. When she had cried, he had held her close and soothed her. If anyone would understand, then it would be Beorn.

Fili and Kili flashed through her mind as well. They had been so kind to her. Her fingers reached and felt her braid. It had yet to come undone, even after the long day. Even from the beginning they had been polite to her and tried to help her out. They would surely look even sadder than when they were at the dinner table if she told them that she would not be returning.

Thorin's words echoed through her mind. He wanted his home back so desperately, and he had willingly looked past that she was an elf just so he could say he had another member of his company ready to fight Smaug.

For the first time in a long time, her thoughts were on anything but Orcs and Azog (especially Azog); that didn't, however, make her thoughts any easier or help her to relax.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something precious goes missing, and Tauriel does her best to help find it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, this has nearly 50 kudos! I want to thank everyone who has been reading. Your support means a lot to me, and I'm glad that so many people have been enjoying this story.

Out of all the places that Fili had ended up sleeping at during his uncle's quest, he had to say that Beorn's house was his favorite spot. For one thing, it wasn't out in the open, where someone had to waste a few hours keeping watch. Keeping watch might as well have been torture considering how the company already had such little time to sleep. Beorn's house also had a roof and walls that kept animals and the wind out, not to mention a pile of soft hay and blankets to sleep on; it wasn't the best, but it was far better than the hard ground Fili slept on most nights. And, unlike Rivendell, his uncle wasn't constantly complaining.

A warm, safe place like this was hard to come by. Fili couldn't help but frown and take one last look around the home. In only a few short hours, he and the rest of the company would be back on the road.

Though the sun still had yet to rise, Fili's eyes had adjusted to the darkness. He took in as much as he could, until whenever he closed his eyes he could still see the house.

Opening his eyes once more, his gaze turned towards the staircase in the corner. It was empty, the only things on it being shadows and dust.

Tauriel, he guessed, was still asleep like Kili. He could see her in his mind, curled up and hugging herself underneath a blanket, her eyes shut and a small smile on her lips.

It was funny, in a sad sort of way, Fili supposed. All this time he had hoped to be able to rest somewhere and finally catch some sleep, and yet he always seemed to be the first to wake at Beorn's. He had woken up like the day before, to darkness, the sound of a dozen snoring dwarves (and a hobbit), and to the warm feel of his brother beside him, huddling close to him for warmth and protection like he had done as a child.

Rubbing at his eyes, he looked down to the wooden table below him. Whatever had made him wake up couldn't be undone or changed. After a while of trying to go back to sleep, he had simply stood up and left (while being careful not to wake anyone, especially Kili, up).

Surveying the cracks in the table, Fili let his mind wonder to what would happen later. Already he could see the other dwarves awaken, and hear them move about as they prepared for their day. Uncle Thorin would be the grumpiest of all and would probably start barking off orders. Perhaps Gandalf would help out, or perhaps not. There was no telling with that wizard. He could see the table filled with food and hear the dwarves chattering around him, most not even bothering to finish chewing before they spoke.

Besides Gandalf, the only other person that faded in and out of his mind was Tauriel. Every few moments, his eyes would wonder from the table's hard wood to the shadowy stairs, almost as if he expected the elf to be standing at the bottom step waiting for him.

In one moment, she was sitting beside him and Kili, eating breakfast and discussing their plans for the next day. In the next moment, he could hear her saying goodbye. Even if he was only imagining it, he could still see the hurt look on Kili's face, and watch as his own mind struggled to think of a response.

His day dreams continued on for a while before he finally stood up. With careful steps, Fili walked over to the window. Though there was still no sign of the sun, the sky had lightened from a pitch black to a shade of violet. In the distance, past the wall that surrounded Beorn's home, he could see a line of trees. They were thin, dark silhouettes against the night sky, looking like ink lines that had been drawn reaching for the sky. Between them were darker blobs that moved every few moments,

Fili had to blink a few times, but it didn't take long for him to figure out just what he was seeing.

Behind a stone gate, a heavy wooden door, and four hard walls, Fili watched the small, dark figures of Orcs move about. It was hard to see all of them, but there was no doubt in his mind of what he saw.

Even with the distance between him and the beasts, his heart still raced.

____

Kili leaned down, grabbing the blankets from the floor. They were right where he had left them that morning, wadded up on the floor next to a few of his things. Though Nori not been outside all day, save for breakfast time, Kili still checked to see if anything was missing. It was a habit of his, though most of the company did the same. Once the company left a place, they never went back, no matter what was left behind. Bilbo had learned that the hard way when he had to use a torn piece of Bofur's old clothing for a handkerchief.

Digging through his small pouch, he checked to make sure that everything was in order. There were the small snacks he was taking for the road, and next to them was his small spare knife, along with a needle and some thread in case he ever had need to sew his clothing back together. It had been a small precaution given to him by his mother right before he and his brother had left.

It hit him like a bolt of lightning.

First, he reached inside of his pockets. Unlike his brother, he didn't have a million pockets sewn inside of his coat, so there were few spots where his stone could have ended up. Considering the fact that he couldn't feel the talisman's familiar weight anywhere, it wasn't surprising that he could not find it in his coat. However, he could not consider it comforting either.

Next, Kili pulled his pouch open again and rifled through it, searching for any place that the stone could be. It had to be somewhere close by. After all, Kili had it when the company had first arrived at Beorn's.

Dropping his blanket and pouch to the ground, he got on his knees and frantically dug through the hay.

Stones, he reminded himself, didn't just vanish into thin air. Surely if he kept looking then he would find it.

But how much time did he really have? Everyone else was preparing to leave, and Uncle Thorin, a Bilbo, and Gandalf were already outside planning where to go and what to do.

He bit his lip. It had to be around there somewhere.

"Kili?"

The voice startled him just as he was in the middle of pulling up a large pile of hay. Letting it fall back down, he looked up.

When on his knees, Tauriel towered over him, becoming even taller than usual. She looked down at him with wide, curious eyes, though there was a glint of concern in them.

"Kili, what's wrong?"

For a moment he was silent, unsure of what would be considered a proper response. "Well," he said finally, his eyes returning to the hay below him, "I lost something."

"You did?"

Before Kili could respond, Tauriel was down on her hands and knees and digging through the hay. She wore Fili's coat, and the braid that the brothers had given her was still in her hair.

"It's a stone," Kili finally said, "a talisman that my mother gave me."

At his last few words, Tauriel stiffened for a moment before continuing her search with a sharp gleam in her eyes. Her hands moved faster, moving past the hay until at one point she reached the dark dirt below.

 

Kili continued himself, moving over to another spot and continuing his search with fervor. When each spot yielded nothing, he moved to another. Disappointment was hard to swallow, but he preferred it to the idea of leaving Beorn's without it. Would the bear man just find it a few years down the road and wonder what the curious little trinket was? What would his mother say when she found out that he had broken his promise?

"It was a little gift from my mother," Kili commented, as if to fill the silence. He wiped sweat from his brow before he continued searching. "She gave it to me before the quest, telling me that I needed to return it to her once the quest was done." He paused for a moment. When Tauriel did not reply, he continued on. "It was a way of reminding me of my promise to come back home to her."

"Is this it?" Tauriel spoke quickly after Kili had explained the object's significance. In her outstretched hand was a dark stone with unmistakable words on it.

Kili grinned, right before he grabbed it from her hands. Wrapping it tightly in his fist, he used his free arm to pull Tauriel into a hug. For a moment, she was still, but then returned the hug, holding him tightly.

"I can't thank you enough, Tauriel. If I had lost this..." Looking over her shoulder, he unfurled his fist and looked at the all too familiar writing carved into the stone.

____

"Mum gave me one too," Fili said, pulling a carved stone from the small leather pouch attached to his side. Tauriel eyed it, and reached out and touched it with the tips of her fingers as Fili held it closer to her.

Unlike Kili's, Fili's stone was smoother and rounder, slightly heavier, and had more words carved onto it in neatly scripted Khuzdul. It was also a shiny grey color.

"You would think that she would give him a knife instead," Kili commented.

Tauriel laughed, and Kili couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

Once she stopped laughing, her face changed. Her eyes went blank and her lips formed a straight line. "You will keep your promises to your mother, won't you?"

"Of course! When Mum is angry," Kili responded, "she's scarier than Smaug."

Tauriel's face didn't so much as change to give him a small smile. There was something in her eyes, something that he had seen some nights when she had sat alone hugging herself.

Fili, he noticed, looked unsure of what to say. His blue eyes darted from the stone in his hand to Tauriel, though he never met her eyes.

"You know," Kili finally said. He paused and swallowed the lump in his throat, and then spoke a bit louder. "I was told something interesting about this stone by my mother. Apparently, whoever reads it and isn't a dwarf is said to be cursed."

Tauriel stiffened.

Fili narrowed his eyes and frowned. Kili quickly looked away from him.

"I, of course, think that's nonsense." Kili was careful to keep the tone of his voice light. "Why would someone be cursed for reading a stone? It's too superstitious for someone as level headed as myself."

Though Tauriel's face remained the same, Fili snorted.

Fili's face softened, and he placed a hand on Tauriel's shoulder. "He was just joking."

After a moment, her head moved in a jerky nod, like a puppet being pulled on strings. Her eyes never met with either brother.

"It's not like you could probably read it, anyway." Fili laughed. "Unless you learned Khuzdul somehow."

"No," she said after a few moments. Her voice was low and monotone. "I have no idea what those stones read."

____

If there really was a curse, she supposed as the two dwarves pocketed their stones for safe keeping, she doubted that it could do much for her.

It wasn't as if she didn't already have a trail of bad luck and missed chances, not to mention so many wasted years.

Fili and Kili smiled at her.

She could only try and smile back, her teeth moving in ways that made her lips ache.

____

She had first seen the flowing dwarf script in her father's papers. Back then, she had been young and Erebor had belonged to the dwarves. Letters were sent, and sometimes a few dwarves would forget to write in Elvish or Westron.

Whenever that happened, her father would tend to ask for her mother for advice. As captain of the Mirkwood guard, she couldn't offer much help, and usually new letters had to be written. Correspondences could take even longer, and all because of a few words written in ways that no elf could read.

Tauriel would read those letters some time. Though she enjoyed her lessons learning the Westron and Elvish letters, there was something beautiful to the dwarf script.

"Did you figure anything out?" her father would ask, pulling her up into his lap.

She would shake her head. "No."

"Neither did I," he would reply with a chuckle. "Though I was hoping that you could translate this letter for me."

The next time that she had seen it was in Moria. Though the place stank of Orcs, there was no denying that it was once a beautiful dwarven homeland. From the paintings on the wall to the elaborate furniture, to the carvings and design of the kingdom, there was nothing Orc like of it. Carvings in the dwarf script had been on the walls, marking rooms or writing out sentences. She could neither read or translate any of the words, and she had doubted that any Orc in the mountain could either.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eventually, all safe places must be left.
> 
> TW: Heavy violence in this chapter

"Tauriel, I need to speak with you."

The words were harsh and cold, yet Azog's husky voice was still not loud enough to make her ears ache. She looked up to him, her body still but heart racing; it had been, ever since she had walked into the arena and seen the skin changer, and hadn't stopped even long after she had set her weapons down.

Azog's pale face was lined with wrinkles, signs of his anger that covered every part of his skin. His black eyes were impossible to read - two dark pits that saw her and yet never seemed to show herself back.

"What you did today," he said, his voice beginning to rise. "Do you even realize what you did? What you have caused?"

The cold dread that had filled Tauriel since she had left the arena with her head down earlier grew even icier. It ran through every part of her, and she was filled with pain before Azog even raised one of his hands against her.

"Do you know what they think now?" His thin lips opened wide as he spoke, showing off his sharp teeth. Azog was all sharp lines and rough edges. His eyes were in slits, locked on her. "The Orcs are laughing at me now, mocking my name." He stressed the last two words, his tongue rolling as he spoke.

Tauriel couldn't remember when she had first started to understand the vile, bitter tongue of Orcs. At first it had been nothing but strange, guttural sounds from the mouths of her captors. Now, it was something that she could not listen to without understanding every word of.

Perhaps, she thought, it would be better if I didn't know.

Up until then, she never thought that she would have been jealous of her younger self, alone and afraid among the Orcs. Back then, she had actually desired to learn their language, if only so that she could know just what everyone was whispering behind her back.

Now, however, she wanted his words to just be sounds, a mystery wrapped in a harsh language. Then only the blow of his fist would have to speak for itself, the marks and bruises left on her skin an echo of his attack.

"Do you know why it is not you that they are mocking? I was not the one down in the arena waiting to fight."

He paused, his eyes moving over her as if trying to judge even her slightest involuntary movement. Whether he was looking at her with a scowl or a smirk, the result was never good. Tauriel had to bite her lip to keep herself from moving.

"I was not the one who dropped their weapons! I was not the weak one who abandoned my battle!" He was yelling then, his harsh words filling Tauriel's ears and echoing back and forth inside of her suddenly hollow mind.

The Elvish language, even in Mirkwood where there were more warriors than poets, was beautiful, with flowing words and pleasing sounds. Westron, though only a language learned out of necessity for communication with trade partners in Esgaroth and beyong, was beautiful in its own way, a language ever changing by the people who spoke it as time moved on.

"And do you know why they laugh at me?"

The Orc speech was none of those things.

Azog stepped closer, though his hand somehow remained at his side.

"They laughed at me because I was the one who supported you, who made you more than you ever deserved to be, you elf scum. I was the one who let you live while your kin fell in that black forest; with one word, I could have had you killed." His voice lowered, but that only made goosebumps rise along Tauriel's arm.

Her heart skipped a beat and she did not try to - could not try to - breathe.

"Do you really believe that you are anything?" With his hand, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer. His grip was so hard that Tauriel had to wonder if he planned on ripping off her own hand - a payback for the one that he had lost in the war against the dwarves. Considering his strength, she had no doubt that he could. "Have I spoiled you by favoring you? Should I have treated you like any of the other worthless rats here living among my people? Maybe then you would at least know your place."

His hand broke away from her, and he dropped it down to his side. Tauriel reached for her wrist, but it only stung further when she touched her skin. She had to force back a sob.

You're breaking the rules, she thought as tears burnt at her ears. Don't cry, don't-

"Did you think that your looks would save you?" He stepped closer again, peering down at her. The dread inside of Tauriel deepened, running through her arms, into her toes, and sending her stomach in circles. "Or that your skill with a bow would?" He reached out to grab her, but she stepped back.

Tauriel's heart raced, and for a moment all she could do was survey the distance between them. Whatever had made her move out of his way had gone still once more, freezing her to the spot.

Azog's face only turned angrier. Perhaps this was how he had looked in the war when he was facing off against the dwarves, just before he had lost his hand and arm. While Tauriel had been locked away in Moria, he had probably been ripping the head off of the dwarf king with this fury in his eyes.

"I kept you because you pleased me." His next motion was so quick that Tauriel barely saw him move. One moment her feet were on the ground and the next she was looking down at him as he held her up like a rag doll into the air above his face. "The only reason that I kept you was because you did whatever I would ask." He tightened his grip on her. "Why, then, could you not attack the skin changer? Why did you let your weapons down?"

For a moment, she tried to reply, but all that came as a reply were gasps for breath.

He looked ready to say something - likely another harsh cry in his terrible language, one that would make her skin crawl and ears hurt. Instead, he raised his arm - or, rather, the metal mace that came out of where the lower half of his arm once ended - and moved it back, holding it for a few moments in a position ready to strike.

____

"So I suppose that this is goodbye," Tauriel said. She felt even smaller than usual around the skin changer; it was hard to keep her eyes on him, but at the same time she could neither keep herself looking back towards the Carrock or towards the forest.

"No." Beorn's voice was sharp, yet still low enough that no one else could hear them. Tauriel could hear the neighing of ponies and the calls of the rest of the company, most of them anxious to move on once more. He reached out and held his hand just above her shoulder, only touching her when she gave a quick nod.

"No?"

"You will come back." His eyes closed, and he pulled away from her. "The pain will hurt forever, but you will come back. Life will move on once more and things will be better." The short ends of his cut shackles clinked. "You will come back, Little Bird. I did not listen with sharp ears every day for word about you before my escape just so that you could return to me and try and say goodbye."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that you will come see me again." He smiled, a small, sad one that seemed almost wrong looking on his face. How could he smile at all? "Finish your affairs with these dwarves and come back. My doors are always open to you, and I will wait every day for you to arrive." The last of his smile faded.

"I will," she responded, voice shaky and eyes on the ground. "I swear that I will."

____

Tauriel looked rather ridiculous on her pony, though Kili made no comment of it. It was far too large for her, and her tall frame leaned up far over it.

The rest of the company seemed to be in an excited mood, discussing heavily of the mountain that lay ahead. Tauriel, however, was somber, her eyes kept down on her lap. The coat that Fili had given to her had been taken off and replaced by a thick fur one made by Beorn.

If she were anyone else then he would have been able to make a joke about it. However, all the words stuck in Kili's throat, and he couldn't keep her eyes on her too long without feeling his own spirits begin to drop.

Instead, he looked ahead; if Kili squinted, then he could see what appeared to be the mountains in the very distance of his eyes.

____

"Take this," he had said. "It is the last thing that I can give you now to help you."

Tauriel kept her eyes locked on it, no matter how her eyes blurred with tears. She rubbed them away as quickly as they started forming.

The arrows on her back were heavy, and some of the sharpest that she had ever seen. Beorn had touched the ends, as if to show the effect, and with only a light touch he had pierced his finger. One of those arrows in her quiver had a dried red stain on its tip, even before it was fired.

____

Fili noticed the bear, sweeping in and out of his vision every few seconds. The Orcs that he had seen before no longer seemed like a threat, not when Beorn was still following them.

Still, as they moved further and further away from his green fields and warm home, Fili couldn't help but feel nervous at the sight of the bear. Whatever Beorn was protecting the company from, be it Orcs or any enemy that lay ahead, it had to be something dangerous.

____

They came near the forest in a matter of hours. While the dwarves groaned, Tauriel's heart skipped a beat. She had known it was coming - there was no denying such a vast land - but she hadn't expected how close it would actually be. It was only a short while before when they had all been eating a warm breakfast at Beorn's home.

"Do we really have to go in there?" one of the dwarves questioned.

"We'll be eaten by spiders." She supposed this wasn't a lie. Considering how the forest looked exactly as she remembered it (the name Mirkwood still stuck much better than Grennwood, and it hadn't gotten any sunnier), she supposed that the spiders had stuck around. Even when she had still lived in Mirkwood, they had been pests, destroying a once beautiful forest and turning it into their breeding and trapping grounds.

"The tree shaggers will surely get us."

Tauriel froze, looking down to the ground. She had gotten off her pony a while before and looked over supplies, finding everything that she needed and then checking all over again. The arrows she had looked over the longest, wondering how far they could go into something (and if they could possibly come back out). They were slightly heavier than the average arrow, but a comforting weight none the less.

"Where did you get those?"

The sudden voice made Tauriel freeze, her hands tightened around the arrow she held.

"Oh, it's you two," she said, looking up. She looked back down.

"Where did you get it?" Fili asked, picking up where his brother left off. "Those look pretty sharp."

She nodded.

"Trying to beat Kili, eh?" Fili looked over to his brother. "I'm sure you'll make him look like he's cutting meat with a spoon."

"She's just mad that all the knives you gave her were dull."

Tauriel looked back down to her arrow for a few more moments, and then deposited it back in her quiver.

"Are we to be leaving soon?"

The two were silent for a moment, cut off from their joking. Their eyes were wide and unblinking, and Kili's mouth was half open and yet silent.

"I suppose," Fili finally said, scratching at his arm.

"Yes, if Uncle Thorin and Gandalf stop trying to kill each other." Kili grinned. "Do you think that the wizard will turn Uncle into something?"

"Maybe a cat." Fili grinned. "He'd probably rub up on Mum's leg and beg for milk."

"And attack every rat he saw," Kili replied. "Though I can see him as a frog or lizard."

"Maybe Gandalf will turn him into a dragon."

"That would actually be useful. I just hope it's one with wings, because I don't want to have to walk all the way to the mountain."

Tauriel turned her eyes towards the forest. Though Tauriel was too far from either Thorin or Gandalf to hear what either one was saying, the exasperated look on Gandalf's face and the angry look on Thorin's said enough. Bilbo stood to the side, and every few moments he looked as though he would try to break in and try to bring some sort of compromise, but ultimately stopped himself.

"Tauriel?" Fili and Kili spoke, almost in unison except for a slight break between the two.

"Huh?" She turned back towards the two.

"We were wondering what you think he would be." Kili said.

"Who?"

"Our Uncle Thorin," Fili said.

She bit her lip. Though she knew the two dwarves well, she hardly knew their uncle personally. Learning from them was easier, as she didn't have to speak with Thorin himself. Thorin Oakenshield, who had ripped off Azog's arm. Thorin Oakenshield, who had tried to rescue Moria.

Who, if his plan had succeeded and Moria been reclaimed, could have possibly saved her.

"A mouse."

Kili raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean a mouse." She wrapped her arms around her waist and looked down.

The two silenced, and that bothered her more than her words. At least they tried to make things happy.

"Fili didn't give me dull knives." Tauriel looked up to Kili.

Kili turned red, and Fili grinned.

Opening her supplies once more, Tauriel grabbed Fili's coat and pulled out one of his sharpest knives. It glinted in the light, and was another comforting feeling in her hand.

____

The arrow that Beorn had pricked his finger on was a very special one, or at least she supposed. As her pony walked along, she looked it over and over again.

Perhaps she would get lucky and not have to use it; perhaps she wouldn't have to use every arrow she had to protect herself.

Perhaps one day she could go back and return it, returning what might as well have been her own cursed little stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly 60 kudos? Thank you everyone!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirkwood is dark, dreary, and dreadful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a quick update, but also the only update I know for sure that I'll post in a while. Nanowrimo is starting in less than 2 days after all. However, once it's done I'll definitely have time to post more chapters.

She would be lying to herself if she claimed that she didn't want to turn around. Though the forest looked the same, the darkness around her was even stronger, as if it wished to swallow her and everyone else who stepped into it.

Kili was behind her, and after him Fili. Everyone walked single file, the forest path having long ago grown thinner. The path itself was nothing but dirt curving in a way that seemed like a road, yet held little space. Branches tickled Tauriel's arms and twigs snapped under her feet. Every noise rang in her ears and seemed to set the entire company on edge.

There was no talking - no discussions of plans, no motivational words from Thorin, and no complaints. Instead, there was heavy breathing and twigs snapping along with fifteen pairs of footsteps.

Tauriel supposed that Thorin was the least lucky of them all. Standing at the very front of the line, with no real idea of what was ahead of him seemed nerve wracking. There was no chance that he could turn back, not now when the mountain was so close and his new home in The Blue Mountains so far away. It wasn't even as if he could just turn around, walk a few miles, and find himself somewhere safe again.

Tauriel clutched one of her bows. Even with the forest path (the one that they were never, under any means necessary, to leave under Gandalf's instructions) and the dwarves behind her, the way back didn't seem so hard to find. She could turn back and return to the sunshine, walk a few miles and find herself back somewhere safe and warm. Beorn would be ecstatic and her stomach would thank her.

She shook her head. What was she even thinking? She could no more turn around now then she could suddenly close her eyes and find herself in front of the mountain of Erebor with Smaug dead.

"We're going in circles," Bofur said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"We're still on the path," Thorin replied. "And I doubt that the elves here, as awful as they are, would make a pointless path."

"They have to walk through here too!" another dwarf piped in.

"How should you know? If Thorin's good at anything, it's getting lost."

Tauriel closed her eyes and nearly covered her ears.

"Took him forever to find my home," another voice, Bilbo, piped in.

Tauriel opened her eyes. She looked over to Kili and Fili, but their eyes were downcast and lips thin lines. Her own eyes shifted forward. The forest was dark, with barely any light coming in through the trees. How she was able to see anyone around her, let alone the path beneath her feet, seemed like a miracle. There had been some days, when she was younger, that her mother and her troops hadn't been able to go out hunting because it was so dark. Their lanterns and torches would barely be able to make a rip in the thick blanket of darkness, let alone show where spiders were.

The day that the Orcs had came hard been dark, but thick enough to where they could be sighted. A few had been killed, and perhaps it was for those Orcs that had fallen that the Orcs had attacked so fiercely.

Tauriel's arms wrapped around herself. Part of her wanted to squeeze herself and never let go, but the other part of her (the smart part) wanted to get her bow ready. There could be enemies anywhere - behind the company or ahead, below their feet or above their heads - after all.

"Kili?" Tauriel's voice was barely above a whisper. Besides Kili and a few other dwarves around her with good ears, had others heard her?

"Huh?"

"Kili, do you or Fili see anything?"

"I see trees."

Tauriel clutched her bow tighter in one hand and Beorn's arrow in the other. "Do you see any spiders? Any Orcs?"

"Spiders?"

Tauriel tensed at the very word. "Just keep on the look out."

The Company walked on, every step harder on Tauriel's feet than the last. A few whined about stopping and taking a break, but Tauriel remained silent. Mirkwood was no place to stop and rest in, and she doubted that they could stop and make champ without something - anything - finding them.

"Just keep moving," Thorin said.

The same dwarf as earlier whined about the group moving in circles.

"I've seen that tree before."

"There are a million trees in this forest!"

Tauriel wasn't sure when the hallucinations started. She had heard of them happening to mortals who travelled east through Mirkwood, but had never experienced them before. The elves of Mirkwood had made an elixir to combat it, a medicine that she had not taken in years.

Where Kili was supposed to be stood herself, an exact copy. Judging by the look on the other Tauriel's face, she seemed just as surprised to see the elf in front of her as Tauriel did.

Tauriel looked forward, and then closed her eyes and rubbed them for a few moments.

It's not real, she reminded herself.

But would the spiders be real? What if she saw an Orc? Would she waste her arrows attacking the air or would she be so sure that she was seeing nothing that she would be attacked?

When she opened her eyes and looked behind her, Kili stood there. His face had changed, and his eyes met her.

"Are we going in circles?"

Tauriel bit her lip, unsure of how to respond to him.

"I want out." Kili's voice was low, and his eyes constantly moved.

Tauriel looked away from him, her eyes looking forward again, but were torn away from the dwarf's back. Though Kili was still beside her, she could see herself, younger, foolhardier, being chased by Orcs. She was struggling to aim her bow and run at the same time, and every few moments risked running into a tree.

Kili bumped into her.

"Tauriel, what are you looking at?" This time it was Fili who spoke.

"Do you see a spider?" Kili clutched his bow tighter.

"Get moving!" a dwarf near the back called.

Tauriel merely shook her head and continued moving forward once more.

It's not real, she reminded herself. Or at least it's not real any longer.

But it had been real, all those years before. Nothing could remove the stain of her parents' blood from the ground, nor could she forget the terror of being attacked by invaders even worse than the spiders.

She closed her eyes for a few moments but kept moving. If things were simple then what she saw wouldn't hurt her.

But nothing was ever simple for her, was it? Not after that had happened (everything that she had done).

She opened her eyes. The dwarves and Bilbo were still in front of her, and Fili and Kili and the rest of the company were still behind her.

The other Tauriel was still running and screaming, crying out for someone, anyone to help her.

The Orcs continued after her, closing the gap of distance between them. There seemed to be more now than before she closed her eyes, all chasing after the same elf.

Then their wargs stopped moving and eyes shifted. All of them were looking at her, eyes hungry and mouths opened to show off their sharp yellow teeth. One ran towards her and the others followed.

They're not real, she reminded herself as her feet followed the path. They cannot hurt me now.

But their angry cries rang in her ears, and she had never had reason not to trust her eyes before. The Orcs were getting closer and closer to her by the second.

The scream left her throat before the arrow left her bow. Then, with a racing heart and throbbing head, Tauriel turned and sprinted through the forest, twigs cracking under her feet and tree branches reaching out and grabbing onto her like claws.

____

The Orcs were all around her, watching her every move. No one in the place seemed to breathing, just watching her and waiting to do see what she would do. Their eyes were hungry and their teeth glistened, and each new Orc that she saw was even more fierce some than the last.

____

"Are you awake?"

"Huh?"

Every noise Tauriel heard, every light that she saw (and from what she could already tell, at least in her dim haze, there were very few) was too bright, and everything that touched her felt wrong. Her head swam and vision blurred, and the food that she had eaten at Beorn's no longer seemed so appetizing.

Beorn's...

They had left Beorn's some time before when they had come to... Where?

"Mirkwood?" Tauriel asked, the word flashing through her mind. "Is that where we are?"

"Sad to say, but yes," the voice replied. She had heard it a number of times before but couldn't quite place it. When she looked forward, she saw only bits of light that were too bright for her.

"B..." Tauriel began, trying to remember his name. Why did so many members of the company have names starting with the letter "B"? "Bilbo, where are you?"

"Oh," Bilbo responded.

Tauriel blinked a few times and Bilbo stood before her. He looked rather tired, with cold eyes and a heavy frown. One of his hands was in his pocket, while the other tightly held a sword. He had appeared as if out of nowhere. Still, the creature before her was surely Bilbo.

The forest must still be playing tricks on me. Tauriel thought. 

After all, she realized, it wasn't as if hobbits could just turn invisible.

Bilbo was incredibly dirty, covered with what looked like fresh scars, dirt, and a sticky white fluid. Looking down, Tauriel noticed the same white substance on her clothes and bow.

"Bilbo, what happened?"

Before he could even reply, the answer appeared before her. Grabbing her bow, she quickly fired an arrow at the spider behind her, which was almost as dark as the forest it inhabited. Though her body shook, she had used as much strength as she could muster in the shot, and was pleased to hear the giant arachnid screech in pain.

____

Diolir could not be sure what to think of the bear. They had been watching and following it for some time, though she could not see why. Though she had hunted bears in the past, even feasted on their rough meat, there was something about this bear that made her hesitate. Maybe it was the smell of her mistress upon the bear, or the way that it lunged so fiercely at Azog and the Orcs. Usually a formidable foe with his allies, Azog looked to be struggling against the creature.

The bear let loose a roar and jumped on Azog. Diolir watched to the side. Had she not smelled her mistress ahead then she surely would have attacked it.

Instead, she watched the fight. Azog roared in pain, and his white warg looked dangerously tired. A few other Orcs lay dead.

Diolir turned and began to sniff around, but keeping her ears alert in case of danger. The bear was still close to her.

____

Tauriel wasn't the only one, she learned, who had been attacked by spiders. The memory was still hazy in her mind, most of it consisting of Orcs (imaginary or not?) attacking her before things went dark. Still, if she focused hard enough then the memory of the sound of long legs running across tree tops would cross her mind, followed by the sound of an inhuman, animalistic cry.

"How did you escape the spiders?" Tauriel asked. Her bow was at her side, an arrow in her other hand.

Bilbo looked up to meet her eyes. "Oh, you know..." He paused for a moment, looking down to his sword. "Some burglar business is all I used. I had a few tricks up my sleeve, some silent feet, and a bit of courage that I found in the Misty Mountains."

"Ah," Tauriel replied. She looked back up, searching among the trees for bits of light and white shapes. There were webs everywhere, and she had to use one of Fili's knives to cut through it.

Mirkwood certainly hadn't changed. In all the years that she had been gone, she had hoped that Thranduil and his people would at least have been able to find some way to rid the forest of spiders and the darkness that descended with them.

No such luck, Tauriel thought as she cut through a web made between two trees.

"Where is the path, anyway?"

"It ended," Bilbo replied. "The thing was useless."

How marvelous. Tauriel shivered as she removed some webbing from the knife that Fili had given her. Trapped in a dark forest surrounded by hungry spiders - oh, how nice Beorn's offer suddenly seemed.

Tauriel put up her fur hood, covering her red hair and face.

With all the webbing around, it was hard to tell if they were getting closer to the dwarves or simply wondering through a spot that the spiders had invaded and dirtied. Most of the webs looked abandoned, with little to nothing actually stuck to them.

Bilbo saw the dwarves, or rather the sticky white cocoons holding up the dwarves, before Tauriel. Wordlessly, he pointed upwards, his eyes wide and mouth open.

There were the dwarves, all thirteen hung up in a line. They had probably all been captured together.

Beside the biggest one were two large spiders.

"Can you climb trees?" Bilbo asked.

"Ever since I was a child."

She aimed her bow and fired. After she had done so, she repeated the action again and again, until she had hit each spider up on the tree. Bilbo had vanished somewhere, and Tauriel began to descend the trees. Bits of webbing covered her, and she couldn't climb while getting it all off. She panted and climbed on.

Keeping steady on the tree branches, no matter how large, were hard. Taking Fili's knife, she began to cut through the spider webbing. She panted.

As she cut, she eventually noticed Bilbo doing the same with his small sword. How he had gotten up there without Tauriel's notice, she did not know, nor could she care. Not now, when so many were in need of her aid.

Getting just one dwarf out of the webbing seemed to take hours. She could never be too careful, not when most looked as sick as she had when they left their webbing and while she risked the silk cocoons falling or accidentally cutting and injuring one of the dwarves. Still, she found the company safe, and just in time. Just as she had freed Dori, a spider cried behind her.

It screeched as an arrow went through it. Tauriel hardly noticed, just fired another before watching it fall from the trees. While dwarves jumped down from the tree or fell off, Tauriel stayed upwards and fired.

The bodies of the spiders hit the ground with a clunk. One seemed to come after another. Finally, with her precious arrows from Beorn low and the spiders seemingly gone from the trees, she jumped.

Removing arrows from carcasses and firing them again was nothing strange to Tauriel. Her mother had done it all the time, especially when supplies were low and agreements between Mirkwood and its trading countries were shaky.

There were more spiders on the ground. As soon as an arrow was out of a spider, Tauriel was attacking another. The other dwarves were fighting as well, using either their own weapons or the bows that Beorn had loaned them.

"Throw me a knife!" Kili yelled. She had seen him and his brother fighting close to her, but she couldn't tell who he was yelling at. Without hesitation, however, she threw him the blade that Fili had given her before aiming another arrow.

It all happened so fast, with Tauriel having killed a spider one moment and more surrounding her and the company. Then the spiders had screeched and fallen, attacked by those faster than the tired company.

Tauriel did not see Orcs surrounding her this time, and she had no chance to run or scream. She could not fight either, but only drop her weapons and raise her hands in surrender as everyone else was doing.

"Now what do you dwarves think that you are doing in this forest?"

Tauriel wanted to wrap her arms around herself, but could only stare at the elves ahead. They were hard eyed soldiers holding large wooden bows.

"Commander," one spoke in perfect Elvish, "what are we to do with them?"

"Take their weapons and bring them to my father."

The elves swarmed around them, taking weapons and glaring at the company. She bit her lip, and with a sudden energy reached out and grabbed her weapons from the ground. What good would it do her to be defenseless? At least if she held onto her bow then she would have some means of protecting herself.

"What do you think that you are doing?"

The words spoken in Westron made her freeze. From the ground, she watched boots walk towards her.

"Dwarves," the voice continued, muttering in Elvish. "Getting taller than ever and starting to use bows of all things."

It was only when the elf was over her that Tauriel finally looked up. She had never expected to see his face again.

"Drop your weapons, dwarf. You are surrounded on all sides." Then, without warning, he tore off her the hood of her fur coat, one that Beorn had given her.

For a moment, there was total silence.

"Tauriel?" Disbelief was stitched through his voice, and his face was held in shock. Still, his eyes glowed, holding the same gleam that it had when they were just children.

"Legolas? Mel anin?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all the nice comments, kudos, and bookmarks!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tauriel returns to her former home.

Fili could have cut the tension in the air with one of his knives. Besides the clomping of boots on the ground and the cracking of twigs, the forest was oddly silent. The aurora of spiders had vanished with the appearance of the elves, who still had their bows drawn and eyes locked on the looming darkness before and behind them.

The elves surrounded the dwarves, and based on Fili's rough estimate (considering he couldn't see all the dwarves, let alone all of the elves), there was at least a three to one elf to dwarf ratio. It didn't help that the entire company was famished, tired, and still woozy from whatever had been in the spiders' webs.

However, for once there was no need to fight. Once the elves had seen Tauriel's face (and a somewhat lengthy conversation had occurred between Tauriel and the blond elf in a mix of both Westron and Elvish), all weapons had been lowered.

Of course his uncle could still manage to not be happy about that.

Thorin stood up rod straight, his cold eyes set forward. His lips were in a hard frown that emphasized the growing number of wrinkles on his face. He was one of the only dwarves who still had his weapon out, his sword held firmly in his hand. Though he had yet to mutter something rude under his breath in Khuzdul, it wasn't hard for Fili to guess what his uncle was thinking.

All things considered, Fili was sure that things could have gone much worse.

Kili walked at his brother's side. As always, he managed to keep a smile on his face, and Fili couldn't help but return it. However, his eyes shifted, and Fili quickly followed his gaze.

Tauriel had taken her hood down, letting her long red hair fly free. All but glued to her side was the blond elf from earlier. Though they had stopped their constant chatter, they seemed happy to see each other. Their mutual silence said more than words ever could.

Kili's eyes flickered over the two, an almost saddened look in his eyes. Then, for a moment, Tauriel's face turned. For a moment, she seemed to shine bright, a little piece of happiness in the accursed forest.

Fili smiled. He didn't need all the answers, at least not now. Tauriel's smile, so genuine, made himself relax.

"Do not worry about the male elf," Fili said in Khuzdul. He gave Kili's shoulder a squeeze. "Everything is fine."

It took him a moment, but Kili smiled once more.

Thorin, who stood a few steps ahead of them, merely grunted.

Fili rolled his eyes. "Well, everything is fine for us."

Kili squeezed Fili's shoulder back.

____

Mirkwood had changed in the years since Tauriel had left it. Though many had started to retreat into the central base her king held, by now the last of the wayward houses had been abandoned. What was left were broken and forgotten shacks, ravaged by the cruel passing of time or the fierce attacks of spiders. Most were mere shells of what they had once been, mere pieces of scattered wood covered in thick spider web.

Her grip on her bow tightened.

"Those are ancient nests," Legolas said. "The spiders who lived there now lie long dead."

She turned back to him, letting her tight grip on her weapon loosen. "That is the least that those vermin deserve."

The forest seemed even darker now than before. Even now, with her friends and allies all around her and the spiders far behind them, Tauriel could feel the shadows thickening around her. The trees seemed to have thicker stumps, with scratched wood. The grass was hardly any better, a rough kind that seemed more grey than green. Besides the spiders and a few squirrels, she had seen no living creature. Where elk and birds and foxes had once ran freely were thick shadows and a cold breeze. Tauriel doubted most living creatures would want to live there.

Tauriel looked back to Legolas. She could still see the questions in his eyes, the words that he could hardly hold back. She had only just barely been able to silence him and convince him to not imprison the dwarves, and she had just barely escaped an invasive questioning in the process. Questions would have to be answered, there was no way to deny that, but Tauriel hoped that she could at least wait until they were out of the forest. Hopefully, Thranduil's halls would be as bright as ever. Good light and warm food, not to mention being in a fortress surrounded by iron gates and heavily weaponed guards, seemed like a far preferable place to answering questions than out in the dark and dreary forest.

It was no wonder that they no longer called the place Greenwood.

Though there was little conversation, Tauriel felt many eyes on her. The gazes of the elves seemed much harder than the dwarves. None of the elven soldiers seemed angry at her presence, but their eyes ran over her none the less. Did they think her to be just another of the forest's visual tricks?

Save for the abandoned shacks and buildings, the forest was roughly the same everywhere she looked. Shadows and trees were everywhere, surrounding the large group. If she looked long enough she might have caught differences in bark types, but she hardly had the patience for it. Not when her stomach rumbled and the halls of her childhood were so close (and yet still so very, very far away). Happy or not, and surrounded by her kin, her body needed food and rest.

____

When they entered Mirkwood, Legolas grinned at every guard and all but dragged to the group to Thranduil. The dwarves, on their part, thankfully didn't moan or use a few choice words. Rather, their spirits brightened at the promise of food and places to rest. The warm, lit kingdom was certainly much more preferable than the dark, damp forest.

Tauriel's hunger had lightened, if only because it was hard to think solely about food in her former home. It had greatly changed in some aspects while other parts remained the same. There were even more soldiers than before, with what looked to be heavier armor and sharper blades. The central base was larger and more expansive. Elves surrounded them on all sides, from soldiers to merchants to ordinary citizens. Though she felt again many eyes on her, they did not linger on her for very long.

"You came back at the right time," Legolas said. "The Feast of Starlight is in a few weeks, and already preparations are being made. Truly we have a reason to celebrate this year!"

Tauriel smiled. The Feast of Starlight was a holiday of good cheer and even better food. There was more to it than just the stars (as wonderful as they were). It was a holiday that the Mirkwood elves had celebrated for ages, even before the great forest kingdom was founded and long before even King Thranduil had been born. It brought generations together, and during the feast time no longer stood still. The world moved faster and each of its wonders left a lasting memory. Each feast was different from the previous, and each one seemed far better than the last.

Thranduil's royal chamber had certainly changed. It was heavily guarded and darker, with fewer torches hanging on the wall. Another elf stood at his side, a dark haired elf woman who seemed to be serving as her mother's replacement for the captain of the guard (if the weapons she held and the decorative necklace she wore served as any proof). Elk antlers hung on the walls, arranged from the smallest near the bottom and the larger near the top. Still, he sat as he always did, cool and composed. Autumn had come, and on his head sat a crown of browning leaves.

His eyes widened for a moment when he saw the group. His eyes shifted from Legolas to Tauriel to the group of dwarves. For a moment, he looked ready to say something, but remained quiet.

After a moment of silence, he finally spoke. His voice was still as heavy as she remembered it, easily filling the room.

"I see," he said, standing from his wooden throne, "that something great has happened." Despite his words (spoken in a monotone style), his face was blank and unreadable, lacking the greatness he spoke of. It was only when he stepped closer to Tauriel and took a long look at her face that he finally relaxed. His shoulders shifted and a smile crossed his face.

Then, just as suddenly, the smile vanished.

For the first time, Tauriel saw her king weep. Her king, who had lived through many wars, had seen his own father die, and had watched his kingdom be invaded by dark forces, was crying. Wordlessly, he reached forward and grabbed her, sobbing into her shoulder. Tauriel tensed, standing still as a statue. Every movement Thranduil made, from the feeling of his face moving across her shoulder, to the tightening of his arms on her waist (as if he wanted to grab her and never let her go), reverberated through her skin.

____

"Why did your father cry when he saw me?" All of Tauriel's hunger and desire to sleep had vanished. It was replaced by a thick dread that hung heavy in her twisting stomach and over her heart. Her arms wrapped around her waist.

"Why would he not?" Legolas asked. "Not even many of our kind are able to withstand the wrath and torture of the Orcs. He was truly happy to see you, Tauriel." Legolas's smile faltered. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "My father was crying for the years lost, the time where he grieved for someone who was still alive."

____

There was nothing quite like a warm bath. Part of Tauriel just wanted to stay in the warm water forever. Her troubles went away with the steam. Some of Thranduil's servants had taken Tauriel's clothes to be washed, and soon replacements would be brought in. Until then, Tauriel would enjoy her privacy.

There was soap and a wash cloth set out, but Tauriel had yet to use it. As of then, she wanted to simply enjoy the feeling of warm water against her skin. This was one of the few private baths in the kingdom. Legolas had all but insisted she use it rather than going to one of the bath houses with the dwarves.

A sudden knock on the door jolted her forward. Water splashed slightly on the floor, and her eyes turned to the door.

"Who is it?"

"Elondar," came the reply.

"Hmmm?"

As if taking that as an invitation to come in, an elf entered the room. Tauriel quickly scooted underwater, and was thankful that her hair floated out and above her.

The woman (though, judging by the way she looked, girl seemed more appropriate) at the door had light brown hair and matching colored eyes. In her hands was a folded dress, as bright green as summer leaves.

"Oh, I apologize," the woman said, her eyes turning to the folded bundle in her hands. "I did not mean to intrude."

"Do not worry," Tauriel replied. Her own eyes looked down to her locks of hair flowing in the water.

"I should have expected you to be in here." She straightened her back and looked forward, her eyes on the wall above Tauriel's head. "I was instructed to bring this to you."

"Thank you." Tauriel said. "Please just place it down for me and I will get it." She hadn't seen the girl earlier, so she must have been one of the newer, younger servants. At most, she looked to be three hundred years old.

"But what if it gets dirty?" The girl bit her lip, her eyes flashing with worry.

"Do not worry," Tauriel said. "Please, just go." Her words came out slightly harsh a at the end.

The girl quickly nodded and placed her clothes down. Then, she quickly left the small room.

Tauriel sighed and sunk beneath the water. It was always strange, seeing the world through water. Even if there wasn't much to see in the room, the walls and towel hangers blurred above her, a mix of wavering colors.

For a moment, Tauriel thought over her words. She certainly could have acted a little calmer. The girl had certainly been as afraid of her as she was.

Don't worry about it, Tauriel thought, sitting up. She pulled her head from the water, and froze a moment as cold hair hit her skin. Bits of water fell from her hair and face and ran down her skin, as if the water was running back home to the water in the metal tub.

But worry she did. It was hard not to, when her dress was laid out and it fully hit her where she was. Questions were coming. She had seen them in Legolas and Thranduil's eyes, and felt them in every stare the Mirkwood soldiers gave to her.

She was an anomaly, a former citizen turned stranger. And somehow, she had to answer their every question.

Without thinking, Tauriel stood up. If this was to be done, then she must hurry.

There was no point in stopping the inevitable.

The room had no mirror in it, so Tauriel had to hope that her hair, dried only by a towel, looked nice. It wasn't until then that she truly noticed how long it had gotten. A few more months and it surely would have been dragging on the floor. Her hands reached out to grab it and braid it, but she stopped herself. She had nothing to hold the braids back, and she was never the best solo braider. Judging by the style of the dress on the floor, Thranduil expected her to look nice.

With a sigh, she picked it up and put it on. After a moment though, she relaxed. The skirt went down past her knees, and the fabric was soft and silky to the touch. White undergarments had come with it, which were just as soft. There were, however, no shoes of any kind.

When Tauriel left, she saw the girl from earlier standing by the door. She raised an eyebrow.

"I was asked to escort you to the dining hall." She gave a small bow.

For a moment, Tauriel was unsure of how to reply. She did not act like a rowdy dwarf, but she did not have the stiff formality that many Orcs who had been around her did.

"I apologize," Tauriel finally said.

The girl blinked.

"I should not have snapped at you." Tauriel straightened. "Thank you."

Elondar smiled. "Of course, mistress."

Tauriel's eyes widened. It had to have been Legolas or Thranduil who had instructed her. "Please," she said, "Tauriel will do."

She nodded.

The two moved forward, Elondar only a few steps faster than Tauriel.

"Do I look alright?" Tauriel asked as the two neared the dining hall. It seemed like ages since she had cared so much about her appearance, and she couldn't help but feel her cheeks flush.

"You look very nice," Elondar replied. She had a serious voice when she wasn't nervous, the kind that didn't sound as if it were trying to hide anything from her.

Slowly, the twisting hallways packed with soldiers grew more and more familiar. Soon enough, it almost seemed as if Tauriel had taken a step into the past.

Once they reached the familiar heavy wooden doors,the ones that Tauriel had followed her parents through before for countless meals, Elondar stopped.

"Everyone is waiting for you," she said. She gave another quick bow and stepped away.

"Wait," Tauriel said.

The younger elf froze. "Yes, miss-" She paused. "Yes, Tauriel?"

"Aren't you going to be eating with us?"

"I, well," she replied. Her eyes darted around. "If you would like it, my lady."

Tauriel had to force back a laugh. Oh, that had to have been Thranduil. Not even Legolas would instruct her to say that.

"Come in," she said, wrapping her hand around the polished silver handle. "And please do stop with the formalities."

Elondar nodded.

The dining hall itself seemed larger than she remembered, though perhaps that was because thirteen dwarves and a hobbit were also sitting at it. Most of the dwarves looked to be wearing Elvish clothing, most of which fell past their feet. Legolas and Thranduil sat near the end of the table as they had before, with the dark haired woman from earlier also sitting beside them. Before everything changed, Tauriel had usually spent her evening meal with her parents, king, and prince, and maybe a visiting guest from another elven kingdom if one ever stopped by. Now, nearly every seat at the table seemed packed.

As if by luck, two seats were still left. After taking a deep breath, Tauriel stepped forward and took her seat.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to note that some readers have mentioned fearing a love triangle of Fili and Kili against Legolas. There will be none, as there's enough angst as it is, and I was never going to write a love triangle into this anyway. So no worries!
> 
> TW: Mentions of past violence in this chapter

Fili had to force his eyes away. Judging by a quick glance at his brother, Kili was still looking, and wasn't quite as subtle about it. His mouth was slightly open, and in his eyes a mix of awe and shock.

"Kili," Fili said. His voice was low, too low for even he himself to easily hear. A quick jab to his brother's side was far more effective, and quickly turned his brother's eyes over to him.

"What did I do?"

"Don't look at her like that."

"Why?"

It seemed like common sense. "Look at her arms." Considering how much Kili had been looking, Fili would have thought that his brother would have noticed that they were crossed at her sides and holding onto her waist.

Kili quickly averted his eyes back down to the table.

___

Sometimes it was hard to believe that Moria had once belonged to dwarves. When she thought of dwarves, Tauriel pictured finely made weaponry and carefully crafted trinkets. She thought of the Mirkwood queen's jewelry and various bracelets her mother had bought from Erebor centuries before, with gems that sparkled in even the faintest of light.

She did not think of halls overflowing with Orcs or their putrid scent. When she looked at the remains of broken statues she saw only rubble, tossed around by a Orcs as if it meant nothing. Once, those dusty and broken pieces had represented someone and meant something.

Perhaps that's the problem, Tauriel thought as she looked over herself in the mirror. Orcs don't care if someone cares about something; it's not as if they care about anything themselves.

It was hard to call what she was wearing a dress. The thin brown fabric seemed to be just that - fabric. It showed more than she would have liked, and hardly gave her any good coverage. Goosebumps rose over the backs of her legs. It seemed more like fabric loosely stuck together than anything, and luck was likely the only reason it stayed on her.

If it had been elven made, it would at least have been made to last. Tauriel doubted that it would still be held together within a month.

Tauriel blinked a few times at the mirror in front of her. Though the cover was slightly dirty, she could still make herself out. The mirror's frame was made of a sharp, slightly shiny rock and inlaid with geometric patterns. Bits of the frame were chipped, but the patterns was still visible. She ran her finger over them. It was so much easier to focus on the patterns and to try and decipher their meaning then to look at herself.

It wasn't as if there was anything worth seeing.

These were made by dwarves, Tauriel thought.

As hard as that was for her to believe sometimes, it was an easier idea to swallow than that the Orcs had managed to make something so beautiful.

Her fingers wondered over the patterns until an Orc came to fetch her.

"Azog requests you," the Orc said, their voice low and face blank.

"Of course," Tauriel said. She pulled her hand away from the mirror's frame and turned. Right before the mirror was completely out of sight, she got one last look at herself.

When she returned to the room (it was hard to consider it hers, especially when Azog always had her over in his), she turned the mirror around.

___

"I see that I am serving a rather large company tonight." Thranduil's voice filled the room, and all heads turned to him. There was an almost hypnotic quality to him, something that easily let him gain everyone's attention.

For a moment, Tauriel's heart raced as she waited for him to continue. The heavy silence, however, remained.

"My father," Legolas continued, gesturing around the table, "welcomes you."

"And we thank you," a dwarf, Balin, quickly replied. Though his brother and Thorin, who were sitting on both sides of him, were still dressed in their dwarven clothing, Balin was dressed in a clean Elvish robe.

Thorin's face looked to be on the verge of a frown, one that he could just barely hold back.

Old grudges die hard, Tauriel reminded herself.

"This was quite generous of you, dear king Thranduil." Balin smiled. Even if he was simply faking happiness, he did it well. Tauriel doubted Thorin could do the same, let alone have the chance to actually be happy about it. "We are all pleased to sit and eat with you."

For a moment, Tauriel could have sworn that she felt the eyes of everyone in the room turn to her. How long could everyone skirt around the issue? How long until she was questioned?

"And we too are pleased to have you here tonight," Thranduil replied. For a moment, his eyes locked onto Tauriel's. There was no way to deny it, not with a gaze as sharp as her king's.

___

Sometimes he was not angry.

Sometimes he did not raise his fist or mace.

Sometimes Azog was almost gentle, his touch almost like a caress.

Almost.

Sometimes.

As Tauriel surveyed the fresh marks on her skin, the ones that were always taking longer and longer to heal, she couldn't help but wish that the night before had been one of the good nights.

___

Bilbo has saved us all again, Fili thought. This time, rather than trying to argue with trolls or try and protect Thorin from his worst enemy, he just had to keep the elves' attention. Judging by the number of questions he had, which he had begun asking without previous prompting, every question was genuine. Considering how quickly he went from receiving an answer to asking another question, it would probably be a while before his desire for knowledge was quenched.

Tauriel, Fili noticed as he shot her a quick glance from the corner of his eye, looked to be the most relieved. Her earlier tension had faded slightly, with her frown gone and her arms reached towards her plate rather than the table. She was nibbling on bread.

Fili took another bite of his meat. Whatever it was, it tasted good. The sauce was certainly delicious, and he had to keep himself from licking his fingers. It wasn't as if they were eating at Bilbo's house.

But I'm sure Thorin wouldn't mind us throwing around these dishes, Fili thought.

"Is it true that one of the elven poets once compared Greenwood to paradise? I've read various translations of the text and even the original Elvish itself, in Elrond's library to be exact, and I'm still not one hundred percent sure." Considering how many questions he was prattling off, it was surprising that Bilbo had already finished half of the food on his plate.

"Hey, Fili," Kili whispered.

Fili raised an eyebrow and leaned his ear closer to him.

"Can you understand anything that Bilbo's saying? It all sounds like gibberish to me."

"I've started tuning it out." For the first time that night, Fili picked up his glass of wine. It was even larger than Bilbo's beer mugs had been, and was all but filled to the brim with red wine. Raising the glass to his lips, Fili ignored whatever Bilbo was saying.

Fili was no stranger to the taste of wine. It was easier to swallow than beer, and didn't burn his throat the way some of the drinks in men's taverns did. There was just nothing quite like Mirkwood wine.

It was sweet to the tongue and easy to swallow. In one swig he took nearly half of the glass.

No wonder Thranduil finishes this so quickly, Fili thought. He looked down to the glass for a moment before raising it again to his lips.

The wine made Bilbo's words even easier to ignore. For a moment, Fili could only drink his wine.

When he brought the glass down from his lips, it was only because his glass was empty. Placing his glass back down on the table, Fili took another bite of his meat. The meat, though well cooked, and the sauce, though delicious, was nothing compared to the wine. His teeth went back to mechanically chewing and he found himself focusing on Bilbo's every other word.

An elf passed by and quickly refilled his glass. Fili gave them a smile, but the elf vanished before he could get a good look at them.

Kili seemed to have realized the wonders of Mirkwood wine as well. He raised his glass up and took a good long drink, downing half the glass.

That's my brother, Fili thought. He shot Kili a smile before raising his own glass once more.

____

When Fili woke up, his vision was swimming, his head felt as if it had been hit with wooden clubs by a pack of Orcs, and there was a knock on the door.

For a moment, Fili just stared at the ceiling. His mother could get the door; she was the only dwarf he knew who actually liked to get out of bed before the sun rose.

It took him a moment to recognize the ceiling above him wasn't his.

Fili sat up and blinked a few times. He put a hand against his forehead and leaned against the bed frame. The room around him was only vaguely familiar; he and Kili had been given it when the company first arrived in Mirkwood, and they had gone back to it after dinner the night before. It was large, with most of the space empty. The surfaces of the wooden dressers and night stands were dust free and empty, and the beds had been neatly made before the two had slept in them. The rest of the space, though clean, was bare.

"Kili, could you please get the door?"

His brother merely grunted from the other bed, the sound partially muffled by the pillow Kili had his face buried in.

The knock came again, a bit louder than before and lasting a bit longer.

This can't be Thorin, Fili thought as he forced himself up. By now he would have torn open the door.

When Fili finally got to the door, one hand held to his head and the other at his side, the knocking started once more. For a few moments, Fili could only stand still and listen to the knocking.

Once it ended, Fili opened the door.

He recognized the elf instantly, though it took him a moment to remember his name.

"Legolas," Fili said, quickly straightening his back. "Prince Legolas," Fili quickly corrected, giving a small bow as his mother and uncle had taught him. "I apologize for the wait."

"I've waited far longer for others before." Legolas quickly silenced. His face was unreadable, his blue eyes seeming to simply stare at what was in front of him.

Stay formal, Fili reminded himself. Of the two brothers, he was the one expected to make the best impression.

"Do you have need for us?"

Why wouldn't he? Fili thought.

"I came to ask for a meeting later." Legolas stepped forward, looking over to the bed where Kili laid. "Now does not seem like the best of times."

Fili stepped back, doing his best to try and block the elf's line of vision. "I apologize for my brother-"

"There is no need to apologize," Legolas asked. "I simply came to ask that you two meet me near the east hall before dinner. That should give you some time to prepare yourselves."

"What do you have need of?"

"I simply have a few questions to ask you two."

Fili nodded. "And we will be glad to answer them."

"Good." Legolas turned. "I shall be seeing you two later. Also, I had a special mixture be sent with your breakfast, which should be arriving soon. It should help with your condition."

___

When Legolas went looking for Tauriel again later that day, he found an empty room and an unmade bed. Just like she had at dinner the night before, she had quietly vanished with only a few hints that she had ever been there at all.

The night before, it had been an empty plate and chair that indicated that she was gone. Her servant had gone with her, and probably vanished during one of Bilbo's long winded questions

Legolas sighed. Earlier, he'd come here looking for her and another servant, one he did not recognize, mentioned that she was sleeping and had asked not to be disturbed. Now, she was gone.

Turning around, he headed towards the east hall. If he hadn't been busy instructing soldiers earlier than perhaps he would have had time to go search for his friend. But there was a meeting he had to attend to, one he certainly couldn't cancel.

When he got to the east hall, he was surprised to see the two dwarf princes.

That saves some time, Legolas thought.

His slight smile vanished, however, when he saw that the two were alone.

"Prince Legolas," the dark haired dwarf, Kili if Legolas remembered correctly, said. He gave a small bow. "We are glad to see you."

Legolas merely raised an eyebrow. He had hoped that they would not have bothered with the formalities.

"What have you come to ask us?" The older one continued.

"Have you seen her?"

The two blinked.

"Do you mean Tauriel?" Fili asked.

"Who else do you think that I would be referring to?"

The two dwarves stiffened and glanced towards the other.

"My apologies," Legolas said. "I simply have been looking for her. I have some questions to ask of her."

"Oh," Fili said. "I'm sorry, but we haven't seen her all day. She was at dinner last night and then she was..."

"Gone," his brother added.

"Oh." Legolas looked to the ground. "Might I ask you a few questions instead?"

Fili nodded. "Of course."

Legolas wordlessly sat down and motioned with his hand for the two to follow. They did so, leaning against the dark wooden wall.

"Are you her friends?"

The two blinked again.

"I think so," Kili finally said.

"I hope so." Fili quickly added.

"I think you are." Legolas sighed. "We were friends once. Now? Now I hardly know anything, except that the person I thought was dead for so long never really died." Legolas locked his hands together. "But if she was not dead, then what was she?"

Kili bit his lip. He looked ready to say something, but stopped himself.

"She was," Fili said. He tightened his fists together before breaking them apart a few moments later. He continued this for a while. "The thing is," the blond dwarf finally continued, "Tauriel never told us much. Most of it we learned from Beorn, actually."

"Beorn?" Legolas raised an eyebrow. "Is that a dwarf?"

Kili laughed, and for a moment even Fili smiled. "No, Beorn was too big to be a dwarf."

"Beorn was," Fili continued, "an ally, her friend. He knew a lot about her, and faced some of what she faced." He stiffened. "To be completely honest, I do not know if I should tell you. My brother and I don't truly know that much, and we never asked her about it."

"She would always get so nervous if it got brought up." Kili wrapped his arms around his waist. "And start hugging herself like this. She always looked so afraid, and it would take her a while to start to relax again."

___

Fili had expected the elf to get angry. It was clear that he wanted answers, and had probably expected to get more out of the two dwarves than this.

Instead, he simply looked down to his lap. "No, no, I understand. Thank you for not bringing it up." Legolas paused. "Whatever happened to her must have been truly inexcusable and horrific."

Before, Fili never would have imagined that the son of Thranduil could cry. It used to be that he was nothing but another elf that his uncle ranted about, a caricature without a name. Now, he was sobbing in front of Fili and his brother with no sign of stopping.

Fili searched his mind for a reply. When he found none, he looked over to his brother. Kili was always good at filling in the blanks for him.

Kili could not help him, not now, not when he was crying himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who has been reading! You guys rock and mean a lot to me!


	13. Chapter 13

"Excuse me, mistress," the servant girl spoke. Her eyes shifted as she spoke, moving from Olice's face to the floor to the walls.

Olice raised a dark eyebrow. "What is it?" She recognized the girl from the night before, the one who had sat beside Tauriel during dinner. She had spoken rarely the night before, mostly eating her food. Anything she did say was directed to the red haired elf.

"I was wondering if you knew where Tauriel was."

It was not a surprising question. It should have been expected; still, that did not Olice figure out an answer any sooner.

The girl stared up at her, eyes wide and lips parted in just the slightest, as if she were going to ask another question at any moment.

"I do not know," she said after a few moments. "I apologize."

The girl blinked. "Ah, I see. Thank you, mistress."

Olice stepped forward, looking the girl in the eyes. There were only a few inches between the two, but the servant's eyes widened as if a monster was staring down at her. Olice straightened her back and cleared her throat. "If you would like, I could look for her."

The girl's cheeks turned red and her eyes quickly shifted towards the ground once again. Her body was slack, hands held together, and face hidden by her hair. "Oh no, I could never ask that of you. I was told to look for her earlier. Besides, I am sure that you have business of your own to attend to. The soldiers surely need you."

Olice shook her head. "Today has been a rather uneventful day." She paused, and only continued to speak when the other elf remained quiet. "Things have been rather slow paced ever since Tauriel and the dwarves arrived."

"You still do not need to."

Olice paused, looking the other over. "It would not bother me." She turned. "I actually have business to discuss to discuss and questions to ask her."

"Oh."

"You may come with me, if you would like." Olice motioned her forward.

"Must I?" Her voice shook.

"Would you like to?"

After a few moments, the other nodded. "If you would like it, mistress."

"Olice," she replied.

She nodded.

"And you?"

"Elondar."

Olice stepped forward. "Come with me. I have a few ideas where she might be."

Elondar quickly stepped forward. "As you wish."

"Might I ask that you do something for me on the way?"

"Most certainly."

"Tell me everything that you know of her. It may not be much; I would hardly expect such. Still, I would take your word over whatever rumors the soldiers and Mirkwood citizens have surely already started spreading."

-

Tauriel no longer knew how long she had stared at the painting. Were it not for a few small details and small paint splatters, it was as if she were staring at her mother.

The painting, however, was still. Paintings did not breathe, nor did they have warm flesh. When Tauriel reached her fingers out towards it, she merely touched a smooth canvas, her hands running over colors and brush strokes.

Mother never told me that someone painted her, Tauriel thought.

She had hardly seemed like the modeling type. Though she could be serious, as her grim face in the painting showed, she was never one to stay still for long. Her job and family life kept her moving forward.

There were other paintings in the room, a small space that Legolas had shown her years before when they were younger. If her mother's portrait had been there before, she could not remember it.

Maybe it was made before she died, Tauriel thought, and then cringed, pulling her hand away from the portrait.

"My father comes here when he wants to be alone," Legolas had said. There had been a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. "Make sure that he does not think that we were in here."

She had not even thought of coming here, not by herself. Her legs had simply moved, guiding her wherever they pleased.

Where else would I go? Tauriel thought.

Her room had been nice, certainly much better than what she had been given by the Orcs, but it was hardly cozy. After a while, the walls had seemed to shrink and sleep had never again returned to her eyes; the only way to block it from her mind, it seemed, was simply to leave.

The room, like so much of Mirkwood, seemed to have not changed. There was a bit more dust inside than before, but beyond that nothing was different save for the one additional painting.

Tauriel turned away from the portrait of her mother and looked again to the others. Below the paintings were simple papers stuck to the wall stating the name of the person. Time had taken its toll on some of the papers, and what little Tauriel could make out tended to be hard to read. Her mother's painting had simply been discovered by memory.

There was a slight creak, breaking through the silence.

Tauriel froze.

"I told you she was in a room in this wing," a voice said.

Tauriel's hands reached towards the bow on her back, but never touched it.

"Mistress," a familiar voice said, and Tauriel quickly pulled her hands away.

"Elondar?"

"Oh, Tauriel," she responded. "You asked me to call you that." She averted her eyes to the ground.

The black haired woman beside her, however, locked eyes with Tauriel. "It is good that we have found you. Many are in need of you."

Tauriel paused. "I should have known."

"Do not worry," the woman replied, in the same blank tone. Her voice was monotone, neither rising nor falling. "They will simply be pleased to have found you." She motioned Tauriel to move forward. "Please come with us."

When Tauriel left the room, both Tauriel and the other woman were silent. The only one who made any noise at all was Elondar, whose feet lacked lightness. Every few seconds, pebbles creaked under her feet, and her footsteps echoed across the lean, wooden walls.

"That woman in the painting," Elondar suddenly said. "Was that your mother, Tauriel?"

Tauriel's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"You were looking at her intensely." Elondar replied. "And you look a bit like her."

"She was a good woman," the other elf, the black haired one, spoke up. Tauriel had only briefly seen her the night before and never caught her name.

Tauriel raised an eyebrow. "You knew her?"

"I was an ordinary solider once. Your mother hardly knew me; I was just one of many in a sea of faces. I knew her, however. She was dependable, strong, and smart. If King Thranduil needed something then he turned to her." She paused, looking over to Tauriel. "Though I suppose that you already knew all of that."

"How did you gain your position?" Back before things had changed, when things had been better, her mother had seemed fit to serve King Thranduil for centuries to come.

"Through training," she responded. "Back when-"

Elondar suddenly shot her a look, her forehead wrinkling and frown deepening.

"I," she suddenly said again. "For a while there was no captain of the guard."

Everyone went silent once more. This time, everyone was still as well.

The woman looked back to Elondar, who motioned her forward.

"As I was saying," she said, walking ahead once more, "I had to earn my position. I am sure that your mother did the same."

Tauriel nodded. Her mother had told her stories about it, tales to fill her daughter's head and keep her occupied. Now, the stories were faded, words and images mixed together in her mind.

"It was hard work, but I am glad for the position."

Elandor shot her another look.

"Not, of course, that your mother was not a wonderful leader. I can certainly attest to that."

"I am sure that you can."

-

The room was a bit too big, as if the stone walls were trying to pull away from each other. In one corner, an old grey warg slept, curled up in a furry ball. Items, everything from bottles to papers to rolls of bandages, were scattered across the various grey counters and tables, and some even had spilled onto the floor.

"I have heard quite a bit about you," Holishka said. Her yellow eyes peered over Tauriel, taking in every part of her. Tauriel for once was happy with what Azog had insisted she wear, as for once it did not show much skin. In fact, it covered most of her, save her hands and face. The long sleeves and skirt were a comfort, even if the dress was a bit big on her. "Whatever connections you have with Azog do not matter to me. I would hardly call myself a gossiper."

Tauriel nodded.

"However, Azog has instructed me to teach you." Her eyes narrowed. "You will listen to me, won't you?" Her voice lowered. "Azog was quite serious when he spoke to me. If you are not trained properly..."

"Yes?"

"I would be lucky if a healer could fix me after what he said he would do to me." Her frown deepened. "Though, I suppose he warned you of that as well." Her hand came up, brushing the one bruise that Tauriel had tried hardest to hide. For all that her dress hid, it could not keep away one dark, fresh bruise that rose from her stomach. Her eyes softened for a moment. "After what supposedly happened in the arena, I would hardly consider yourself to be the controlling vixen some try and paint you out to be,"

Tauriel quickly looked away from her. "So that is what they have been saying?"

"Oh, they have been saying far more than that." The woman sighed. "I hardly worry about those things, not now. They used to say things about me as well. I was a witch to many until I saved them from sickness."

Tauriel's throat tightened.

Why would any ordinary Orc need her help? What kind of Orc would want her to treat them when there were other healers like this woman here?

"I learned my work from another," Holishka continued. "Someone far wiser than me." She pointed to the floor. "Pick up a few things and I will show you some of the things that she first taught me. By the end of it, you should be looking much better."

-

"I suppose that you know why you were called here." Thranduil's voice was monotone, neither rising nor falling. His face was just as hard to decipher; though his eyes lacked coldness, nothing else could be told from them. His thin lips were a straight line whenever he was not speaking. He seemed more like a statue than any living being.

Tauriel nodded. Her hands were held in her lap and hidden under the table. She could only imagine what others would think if they saw the way that her hands shook. Her body felt heavier than before, as if she were being weighed down to the chair by the number of eyes on her.

She supposed that it could be worse. Most of the dwarves were not inside, and Thranduil had only invited a few of the upper most elves. That included Olice, however, whose gaze was sharp.

"I suppose that I should have known that this was coming." Tauriel's voice was low.

From the corner of her eye, she could make out the rest of those inside. Olice and Legolas (along with a few elves that Tauriel did not know) sat close to Thranduil, while Bilbo sat in the middle next to Thorin, and beside him sat Fili and Kili. Next to Tauriel sat Balin and Dwalin.

The room was silent for a moment.

"What," Thranduil finally said, "happened?"

"If you need to take your time," Balin suddenly spoke up, placing his hand on Tauriel's shoulder, "then feel free to. We can wait."

Tauriel grimaced, but nodded towards him anyway. The feeling of relief that ran through her when he pulled his hand away ran through her entire body.

-

It was a long story, Tauriel realized, as she continued to tell what had happened. There was just so much, and they seemed ready to listen to everything.

The longer she spoke, the more that her chest tightened. Everyone in the room only seemed to be staring at her harder and harder.

The meeting had been impromptu, simply on the whim of Thranduil and Thorin while trying to make an alliance before the dwarves left. Politics had vanished from her mind the moment that she had entered Mirkwood, yet it had continued on even while she had explored her homeland once again.

What were they saying to each other earlier? Tauriel thought, her eyes momentarily flickering from Thorin to Thranduil.

For hours, her mind had been lost in that painting of her mother. What could have happened during that time?

For a moment longer, she sat still and waited for one of the occasional questions. They were rare, but when one was asked it was thorough, as if the asker was trying to pick Tauriel's words apart like meat from a bone.

"And then," she said, breaking away from her momentary silence.

-

Kili's back was straight as a board and his eyes were wide. Every few moments, he looked to Fili, who merely shot him sympathetic glances. His brother's face was set in a deep frown, and his blue eyes seemed heavy.

Part of him wanted to simply let the words pass him by like he did at most political meetings. He was not Thorin's main heir and had never been treated as such; if there was anything good about being younger than Fili, than it was the leniency that he received compared to his brother.

It would have been nice to stop listening, to let the words turn into chattering, to let his mind daydream and wonder to a place far away.

Instead, his eyes remained on Tauriel and his ears listened intently. Judging by the Fili's grim look, he was doing the same.

-

They all know, Tauriel realize0d. Each and every single one of them knows.

She stared at the ceiling. Her room, so small and yet far too big, was empty. Beyond its walls, elves and dwarves discussed everything that she had said.

What are they saying? Tauriel thought.

She had left as soon as she could. When there was nothing left to say, when her eyes were heavy and voice hoarse, she left. Olice followed behind her, her bow held in her hands. Once Tauriel was at the door of her room, the dark haired woman shot her a smile. It shook on her face, as if she hardly knew how to do it.

"I am sorry, Tauriel."

Tauriel had not replied.

Tauriel pulled her blankets around her tighter. So many were stacked on her bed, all but crushing her, and yet nothing could shake away the chill that had found its way into her bones. It was like a frost that came suddenly over night, covering the grass and trees, and stubbornly stayed long into the next few days.

She closed her eyes. They were heavy, yet she doubted that she would be able to sleep any time soon. She had tried many times since she had entered the room, each attempt even more futile than the previous.

What would make this one any different?

-

When the two princes left Thranduil's meeting room, Legolas followed them.

"What she mentioned today," he said, "you did not know?"

"Hardly," Fili replied.

"I never could have imagined..."

-

She saw blood and heard screams, screams everywhere. Screams filled her ears from all sides, screams that she could never even dream of stopping.

When she awoke, the screams were still in her ears, and the images of those in horror remained firmly in her mind.

Her stomach twisted and turned inside of her chest, sweat covered the back of her neck and arms, and her heart raced. The room around her was darker, the fire from earlier having stopped. With what little strength she had left, she tore through the pile of blankets from earlier, letting them spill to the floor.

She did not change clothes or fuss over her hair. She merely grabbed her bow and ran out of the room, her bare feet stinging with each step she took. Still, she ran faster than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to note a few things:
> 
> 1\. I headcanon that most/all of Mirkwood's captain of the guards are/were women. Not for any specific reason, I just think that it was one of those things that turned into tradition over time.
> 
> 2\. I tried to make both Olice and Holishka sympathetic to Tauriel, but at the same time I don't want to make them completely friendly right off the bat. I don't see them as cold, but I don't see them as very open about their feelings to those they barely know.
> 
> 3\. I really do hope that my OCs seem okay. I rarely make OCs (for any fandom), but I hope that they all seem alright for what little has been seen of them currently in this fic. If anyone has any comments/suggestions concerning them, I'd be glad to read them because I want to make them realistic and make sure their characters incorporate smoothly into this fic.
> 
> And a big thank you again to everyone who has been reading! I've said this before, but I really do appreciate all the attention that this story has gotten, and I am so happy that so many people are enjoying it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every eye is on her, each one's gaze sharper than the last.

Tauriel clutched at her bow with all of her strength, letting the wood dig into her skin. Pain filled the tips of her finger, but at least it was a feeling, a feeling strong enough to combat the sharp pain in her chest and head.

"You really must-" one elf said.

"-get to your-" another put in.

"-room." The words slid from one elf to the other. Around her stood a blur of faces in matching Mirkwood palace servant garb. Each reached out towards her but Tauriel kept taking another step back. The only thing that she could really distinguish from the blur was the elves' eyes, so wide and sad, as if they wanted to fill her image in their eyes.

If her heart beat any faster than she was sure that it would fly out of her chest, rip through her skin and leave nothing but a giant hole in her chest.

Would that be so bad? For a moment, Tauriel's mind slipped. Maybe it would. No heart, no skin on her chest-

No one would ever want to look at her or touch her again.

She would be too ugly for anyone, even an Orc. No elf would turn to her either, not when she was not fair and pleasing to the eye like others of her race were. Dwarves? Most hated elves anyway.

It was as good of an idea as any that she had.

Tauriel stiffened.

"I apologize," one elf spoke. Her frown deepened, sending slight wrinkles down her pale face. The blue of her eyes was like ice, cold and solid and unwavering; never did she look away from Tauriel or relax her gaze or stiff looking shoulders. She clung tightly to Tauriel's wrist. "King Thranduil simply asked that someone watch over you."

"The king," another elf picked up. He held on a bit tighter to Tauriel's other wrist, "is very worried about you."

"Let go of me!" Tauriel rushed forward, but the others merely tightened their grip on her. With another, harder pull she loosened her grip from one person and with another jerk she was out of the other.

"Please, you need-"

"-to come with-"

"-us!"

Her heart was beating faster, not just in her chest but in her head, so loud that even the elves' words were getting hard to hear.

The elves began shouting again, even louder than before and yet just not loud enough. Tauriel's feet ached with every step that her bare feet took, twigs and pebbles digging into her skin.

___

Fili leaned against the wall and held his knife out. It gave a cold glow in the dim light, still shiny but not quite the same as it had been when he had first packed it. Though it lacked the dirt and blood of some of his other weapons, it seemed to also lack... Something. Just what he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Watch where you're pointing that," Ori called from across the room. His nose was buried in a book and his hand was moving a mile a minute as he wrote things down.

"What are you so worried about?" Fili sighed and opened his jacket before placing his knife back in. How nice it would be to not have to take it out again. To think, for once he was actually wanting peace.

He supposed that he had only recently become a man. After all, had he been a man when his uncle asked him to join him in his quest then perhaps he would have refused. It wouldn't have been a terrible act, not when all that he would face was hours of walking (not to mention legs that never seemed to stop being swords), a wizard that vanished and then appeared again at will, and a lack of food. Surely he would have refused.

But it had been an eager eyed boy that had gone running after his uncle, his brother right behind him. This was supposed to be an adventure, a little boy's story come to life.

It was hard to simply call this quest a story. Oh, it was certainly an adventure in its own regard, but if anyone learned all the details they would surely be unsatisfied by the tale. There was action, yes, but something else.

Something that just didn't fit into a story's romanticized look at life.

The boy in him likely would not have been pleased to have been staying in Mirkwood either. Yet Rivendell and Mirkwood both had been welcoming and the people inside generous, and both Fili and Kili had an elf to call their friend. The wide eyed boys, following their uncles around like puppies, just didn't fit any longer.

Fili sighed again.

"What has you so worried?" Ori called. He sat across from Fili in the small guest room. He was dressed in an elven robe that was far too large for him, though he had kept his scarf on. Never did his eyes look up from the paper that he was writing on.

Fili didn't reply, just opened his jacket once more. It was a spare that he had brought, or rather that his mother had. She had told him to bring spares after all.

"Never know when you might need one," she had said.

"But Mum," he had replied. "What if my pack is too heavy?"

She had scoffed. Her lips were turned down, and no amount of her dark beard hair could hide that from her face. "You'll thank me for this later."

Well, his pack had certainly become lighter ever since most of his stuff was lost while the goblins attacked.

At least you have something, he thought.

"You wouldn't understand," Fili replied, never looking to him. Instead, his eyes turned downwards and he began to examine his shoes-one covered in brown dirt and the other still bearing age old stains. His boots were scruffed and old yet also achingly familiar.

"And how would you know that?"

"I''ve seen that look in your eyes before." Ori paused, standing up and stretching his arms and legs out. "You would too if you saw it in the mirror every day."

"What do you mean?"

"It means that you miss someone." Ori paused. "I would say that it was your brother, but he's here, and I thought it might be Tauriel, but she is here as well." He finally looked up, locking his eyes on Fili's own. "Is it your mother?"

Fili recoiled. "Ori?"

"I told you, I've seen that look before." Ori shrugged. "I miss my mother too. Every day I write her a letter, even when there's no way to get my letters to her. At least after the battle she'll have something to remember my journey by."

"Ori-"

"Everyone has someone that they miss."

Fili opened his mouth to speak again but stopped himself. What did it matter? At the end of the day, it would be Ori who would be the one turning the flow of the conversation anyway.

"I just.." He looked back down to his shoes. His mother would know what to do; she knew how to handle anything, no matter how heavy the challenge.

"Here," Ori said, standing up and padding softly along the room. The elven clothing he wore, a green tunic that looked more like a long dress on his short frame, hung around him, swishing as he moved, He tore off a piece of blank paper from the book that he had and handed it to Fili. "Write it for your mother and give her a little look into what her son has been doing. Let her see things through your eyes."

Fili nearly replied but kept his mouth shut. That was one of the duties of being a prince, after all. Sometimes being honest just was not worth it.

But after everything that he had witnesses, did his mother really want to see what Fili had?

___

Kili stared down at his food, only half eaten. Rather than being called into the dining hall to eat with the king, lunch had simply been brought to the princes' room. Judging by the multiple elves walking around and holding trays of food outside, this was happening to everyone. Knowing the dwarves, some would not even be at their room. Thorin was probably off brooding or plotting somewhere and wherever he went Dwalin was sure to follow.

The elves' food was not bad, at least not when compared to some of the other food that he had eaten during the quest. Mirkwood food was certainly different from Rivendell food; whereas Rivendell food had been green (a rather disgusting color shade for food, at least if anyone asked Ori), the Mirkwood was brown and red, the meat chewy and bread thick. It was definitely better than some of the animals that the company had cooked during their quest, everything from small birds to squirrels.

Still, the food could not hold his attention.

Kili closed his eyes. He could still feel the cold wind beat against his skin as he looked off into the distance. Below him, the rocky earth seemed to tremble with anticipation, as if even the carrock itself could sense what lay ahead. The entire company, Bilbo and Thorin especially, seemed in awe at the sight before them.

The mountain was larger than a speck in the distance, but far enough away that Kili could not make out every little detail. It showed enough about itself to capture his interest and yet still held an air of mystery.

At least he hoped. All his life he had dreamed of the mountain, the magical place written in his uncle's stories and gleaming in his mother's eyes. It had to be as wonderful as they described.

But there's a dragon there, he thought.

Opening his eyes, Kili looked down to his plate. Most of his food had merely been pushed around with his fork. He supposed it was better than Fili, who had been staring at the same piece of paper for what felt like hours.

A dragon, Kili thought. It had been the monster of his childhood, a beast that he had once thought lived beneath his bed or deep in the darkest of shadows; yet he had always been safe as a child, so long as the dragon slept in its pile of hoarded gold beneath a mountain that was not truly its own.

"What," he wanted to say to his brother, "are we going to do?"

Instead, he merely remained silent. Whatever was bothering Fili was obviously taking up most of his attention, and he doubted that Fili would be able to give him an answer. Though he was the older one, the smarter one, the one that Thorin wanted to make the next king, it was not as if he would have an answer to what they would do next.

And, unless his uncle had a truly masterful plan, he doubted that any of the other dwarves would either.

___

If anyone looked at her then, they probably would have felt even sorrier for her than they already did. If they could just see her, curled up in her bed after being brought back to her room by her mother's replacement (who had barely even looked Tauriel in the eyes), then they would surely release a few tears.

She had heard the rumors of course and seen the pitying looks. Some of the servants completely avoided her, though they still gave her that same wide eyed look coupled with a heavy frown. Were they trying to imitate what they thought that she looked like?

Tauriel wrapped her blankets around her tighter. The urge to get out of her room (was it even really hers?) had vanished. If going outside meant seeing those looks, hearing conversations being started by one and finished by another, being told what she must and must not do, and being reminded over and over of what others thought...

Then maybe it would be better for once to disappear, to vanish beneath a pile of sheets.

It was not as if she ever got that chance anywhere else.

___

She knew what they would say, long before the words ever left their lips. And in a way Tauriel supposed that they were right. Perhaps it truly was a terrible idea.

Still, it was all that she had left to do.

One last promise to fulfill.

One last chance to finally make things right.


	15. Chapter 15

Holishka let out a heavy sigh, one that seemed to come from deep within her body and fill the entire room. Tauriel looked down, from the cot that she was sitting on the edge of, to her feet. The air in the room was stiff and slightly stuffy, the temperature a mix of both too cold and too hot.

Surely Holishka could feel it as well, at least if she was feeling like this. Though she was hardly the cheerful type, she usually did not look this... What was the right word? She did not look bad. No, she was at straight backed and sharp eyed as ever, though her frown was heavier and movements even more precise than usual. Her hands moved quickly and with grace, something that even her scarred body could not hide. She went from one side of Tauriel's face to the other, washing her face with water. Though the wet cloth stung when it touched her skin, she merely bit her lip and let the healer continue.

"I," Tauriel said, the word out of her mouth only a moment after Holishka had pulled the cloth from her face. She wrapped her arms around her waist. "I apologize for this."

There was silence for a moment; most days, Holishka had work to do, orcs who needed her. Now, the room was empty save for the two and nearly dead quiet. Had the two gone still then it likely would have sounded as if no one was in there at all.

Holishka didn't reply, just plunged the cloth back into a bucket of water. The water around it turned red before slowly mixing into a thin, semi-transparent pink color.

Tauriel's stomach twisted.

"I suppose that I have reason to complain," Holishka commented. "In truth, I would much rather be spending more time properly teaching you rather than simply treating you. Yet, I suppose that this at least gives you an idea of what you will be doing to others." 

She walked over to one of her large cabinets, hung onto the stone wall, and opened it. Inside were bottles and jars of various colors, shapes, and sizes. She looked around for a moment before finally grabbing a round, dark green jar. It fit just slightly less than comfortably in the palm of her hand, and Holishka held it tightly as she walked over to Tauriel.

"I can assure you that this will work better than most other ointments," Holishka said. She opened the jar, the green glass top glimmering in the dim light. Shadows covered half of Holishka's face, and the other half was the same as before, all sharp eyes that seemed to see everything that was in front of her and heavy frown. "You should be healed in no time at all."

"Thank you. Again, I apologise."

Holishka's only reply was to put the ointment, cold and sticky, onto Tauriel's face.

___

Tauriel looked around her room, to the small pile of clothes that had been brought in for her sometime earlier to her bedsheets. Unlike her arrows, which had a quiver to hold them, there was nothing to pack her other things in.

Well, at least if she did not make do. The dwarves certainly had during their journey, keeping what little they had together even when most was lost to trolls.

There is nothing, Tauriel reminded herself, wrong with improvising.

Each movement she took was careful and quick. There was only so much time that she could take in that room, the one Thranduil had been so adamant to give her and yet she knew could never truly be her own, and picked up the clothes. Looking over them, she sighed before dropping most onto the floor. Though her clothes from Beorn's had been washed, everything else was useless. She hardly considered elven robes that went past her feet to be useful in battle.

Did Thranduil himself pick these out? Tauriel thought as she dropped another clothing piece to the floor.

She hoped that someone at least thought to give her something more practical.

Not that it mattered. The dwarves had made do, wearing the same thing every day, and they had gotten so far doing just that. It may not have been the most comfortable, but it had at least gotten them somewhere.

She would just have to do the same.

Tauriel picked up her bed sheet and looked over it. If anything, it would at least give her something to cover up with. Tauriel picked it up and turned the silky material over in her hand.

No, she thought, dropping it back onto the bed. It was fit for Thranduil's halls, not the wilds that lay beyond his kingdom.

She sighed. Quickly, she changed, grabbing her bow and quiver just before she left.

Perhaps Thranduil would at least be pleased that she had not taken anything from him.

___

Before the flames could touch him, smoke filled his nostrils and blocked his vision in a hazy, dark grey cloud. Sweat covered him, and he could not decide if he wanted to rip his clothes off to escape the heat or to keep his clothes on anyway. There was still a bit of space left beneath his clothes, all thick fabrics and heavy fur and wools, that had yet to be touched by sweat - a small shield that protected him from the overwhelming heat.

Fili had thought, and hoped, that it would at least be a quick death. A blink of the eye, a tiny bit of pain, and then nothing. One moment he was in the mountain of his forefathers and the next moment he was finally meeting them.

Dwarves were an unlucky race; for the terrible lives heaped upon them, they seemed to not be able to get a decent death.

He raised his sword up, as if it could somehow protect him from the beast hovering above him. Smaug was even worse than he had imagined, his head nearly reaching the mountain's ceiling. His eye alone seemed large enough to see everything, and everyone, in the room. It was one of the few things still visible beyond the smoke.

Around him, others scrambled over the gold, rushing for a safe space that no longer existed.

Smaug knows this mountain, Fili thought. His stomach tightened in his chest, twisting and turning into knots. He has lived in here for over a century; surely by now he knows every nook and cranny.

Not to mention the smell of dwarf.

There was shouting around him, a rush of voices that seemed to be coming in every direction. Before, Fili had been able to tell the company apart by their footsteps alone, not just their voice. True, Gloin was a bit of a heavy stepper, but he had a voice fit for a story teller that captured everyone's attention (though, once his stories got a bit long and lost their plot, nothing the dwarf could say could bring anyone's attention back).

Smaug opened his mouth once more, showing off his thin and wet pink tongue. Every tooth in his mouth seemed larger, sharper, and yellower than the last. From deep within his throat came a rumbling growl that seemed to echo throughout the entire mountain.

Fili moved, taking a step back but still keeping his sword held high. Blond hair stuck to his forehead and his feet struggled to keep up. If he fell now it truly would be over, then and there.

It was almost funny how important a few final seconds were, a few extra moments before his soul was finally freed. As much as he knew (and had always known) death was coming, it was almost hard to believe how long it had taken to finally get there.

Kili, he thought. I have to find Kili.

Fili stepped back, turning his head to the sides and then back at the dragon. The world was a haze, a blur of yellow and orange and grey, the colors twisting and mixing in his vision.

"Kili!" he yelled. "Kili!"

Smaug's roar only grew, until it filled Fili's ears, and his throat glowed a bright orange color.

Fili turned, swerving on the gold and rushing to the left. Kili had gone to the left earlier? He could not be sure; there were so many possibilities and only one exact answer. Either way, it was better to run than face the alternative.

Perhaps Kili... Fili thought as he raced along the gold, struggling to find the other in his blurred vision.

No.

No, he could not think like that, not now, not when his brother needed him.

"Kili!" he yelled again, though he doubted anyone heard him above the dragon's roar.

___

"She has been acting..." the girl paused, her eyes on the ground. She squeezed the end of her dress a few moments, tightening the fabric between her fingers every few moments before finally releasing it. "My mistress has been acting rather strange lately." Her voice lowered near the end.

Legolas nodded. His eyes darted to the door; whatever was going on, it had been important enough that she had gone to him.

"I tried to stop her, I truly did."

"Tried to stop her from what?" Legolas's voice rose. He reached for his bow, clutching it tightly. "What did she do?"

He should have gotten a guard. She was his friend, his companion, yet-

Yet he had not seen for years, not since that fateful day when he had thought her dead. When she finally did show up, she was with a band of dwarves and reeked of the smell of animals. Were it not for her hair color, he might not even have recognized the pale, scrawny figure.

"What happened?" he repeated. Legolas's heart beat against his chest. He had hoped giving her some privacy would help, especially after everything that she had revealed to him and the others.

Would it have truly been better to confront her?

"She," the girl replied, her voice shaking. "She left. I tried to stop her, but she pushed past me, told me that she had to go. She said that it was the only thing that she could do."

"Why?"

"I do not know!" She bit her lip. "I saw her before when she was crying or when she was clutching at herself. When I saw her then, she was angry, and refused to listen to any of my protests. Nothing could have stopped her, nothing."

"I could have!" Legolas stepped forward.

The servant girl pointed ahead. "She would not listen to my protests; there was nothing that I could say to stop her."

Legolas looked back to her. He had seen her a number of times yet never paid much attention to her. Now, he looked her over, from her wide eyes to her white palms clutching at her skirt.

"Can you at least," he said, his voice finally lowering, "tell me which direction she went?"

The girl nodded and pointed ahead.

Legolas sighed. "Send word to my father." With a great leap, he hurdled forward before racing off.

___

Fili sighed, breaking away from his day dream.

What morbid thoughts you have, he thought. He stood up and began to stretch out his arms and legs.

Still, he supposed that it was as close to the truth as any. Though there was no guarantee what the future held, most of the possibilities were grim.

And why should they not be? he thought.

He sighed. His mother had tried to stop Thorin originally, back when she thought that it was just an adventurous notion in his uncle's mind, nothing more and nothing less. Everyone had thought it back then, when all that mattered was the rising and setting of the sun and the affairs of the Blue Mountains.

She tried to stop us, Fili thought. He could still see his mother's face, her grey eyes burning into him as she reached out to him. Though the boys had their bags packed and maps in their hands, she still held her arms out and left the door opened.

If only Fili had stopped his brother and turned back. Thorin could do as he pleased; it was his kingdom, not theirs. Erebor was a dream, a memory only his uncle knew of.

A memory we have to die for, Fili thought.

He slouched back against the wall. The walls and ceiling of the room vanished, the deep, cool wood of the Mirkwood forest melting away to a world miles away, to a stony mountain where dragons rested beneath piles of gold.

___

He had checked every gate, asked every guard, and each one had assured him that Tauriel had not left the kingdom.

"We would have noticed," one had said.

Everywhere he looked, Legolas searched for a flash of bright red hair. Every movement out of the corner of his eye was a possibility, and every possibility turned out to be nothing but mere hopes.

His legs ached, the steps finally wearing into his feet. Each step forward sent another rush of pain up through his legs and the rest of his body.

Legolas gritted his teeth and clutched his bow tighter. Around him, soldiers and citizens called, but other than a few hand motions he did not reply. Turning the corner, another section of the kingdom checked, he picked up his pace. There was only so much space left, only a few more dark corners that he had not checked.

He took one step forward and then another, faster than before. There was no time to slow down, not now.

When he finally saw her, he supposed that it was luck that he finally saw her. The flash of red hair was impossible to ignore, nor did it surprise him that she was heading towards where the dwarves were standing.

"Tauriel!"

She turned, her eyes wide even from the distance. She was still for a moment before she turned and ran, her own bow in her hands.

___

She could feel his arms on her. He held a foot forward, as if trying to wrap his leg around her own.

"Legolas, what are you doing?" she yelled, struggling forward.

"What are you doing?" he replied. His voice fell. "All I know is that you are leaving! Why would you want to?"

"Is it not obvious?" she replied. She kept pushing forward. If she could just find the right moment then she could break free of him; eventually, he would have to loosen his grip. "Let go of me, Legolas! You cannot tell me what to do!"

"Tauriel, my father and I-"

"Let go!" She was screaming now. Had others been around then perhaps they would have heard her.

She pushed forward, hard enough to send both of them forward and on the ground. Legolas landed on top of her, his stomach rock hard against her.

"Get off of me!"

"No! You have no idea what you are doing!"

"I do!" She pushed up against him. "You are acting ridiculous." He had done this before, when they were younger; back then her parents used to laugh at their antics and the two could laugh along with them.

That was ages ago, an entirely different life.

"I said," Tauriel repeated, pushing harder against him, "to get off of me!"

He did not relent, just help his arms down on the ground, pinning her beneath him. "What are you trying to do? Why are you leaving?"

Tauriel clenched her fists. "To kill him."

Legolas silenced, and he pulled his head away from her.

That was as good of a moment as any, and she gave one last push against him before they were no longer tangled on top of each other. Had she not been so busy than she would have stopped to wipe the dirt and dust from her clothes.

"I want him dead, Legolas. He, Azog, he ruined my life. I thought that I could hide here, behind the walls that I once called home."

"Tauriel, you told me what happened to you. He is vicious-"

"Do not tell me what he is, Legolas. I am the only who met him." She took a step back, her glare hardening. "He killed my parents and then used me-" She bit her lip. "Made me-"

No, there was no point in repeating what he had already heard.

"He is going to hurt my friends, Legolas, and their family as well. I know Azog more than I would like, and enough to know that when he says that he wants to wipe the line of Durin from the face of Middle Earth, I know that he means it." She turned away from him and began to move forward. "I already lost so many to him; if I can stop him from taking more, then it will all be worth it."

There were footsteps behind her, slower this time. Legolas's head was bowed, his eyes on the ground. For a while, he remained like that, a few steps behind and his eyes on the ground. Every few moments he would open his mouth and then close it again.

"Should I grab anything before we go?" he finally asked.

"We already have enough," Tauriel replied. "There is no time left to turn back now."

She tightened her hold on her bow. Her coat was heavy, and hung down against her thin frame. For a moment, it was almost as if she could feel the metal hidden in secret pockets inside, cold and sharp, against her stomach instead of fur.

"Are you sure that you need to do this?" Legolas's voice wavered.

"It is the only thing that I can do now." She closed her eyes. "I will say this again, Legolas: I am going to kill Azog, and there is nothing left that you or your father can do to stop me."


End file.
